Miss Santa Claus of the Pullman

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Digitized by the Internet Archive

in 2009 with funding from

Boston Public Library

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MISS SANTA CLAUS
OF THE PULLMAN

Miss Santa Claus

MISS SANTA CLAUS
OF THE PULLMAN

BY
ANNIE FELLOWS JOHNSON

Author of "The Little Colonel Series," etc.

With illustrations by
REGINALD B. BIRCH

NEW YORK
THE CENTURY CO.

1913

R/3

Copyright, 1913, by
The Century Co.

Published^ October, 1913

TO

MY SISTERS

LURA AND ALBION

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

Miss Santa Claus Frontispiece

PAGE

"Oh, dear Santa Claus" 19

"Here!" he said 29

"Oh, rabbit dravyT he cried 57

He pushed aside the red plush curtain and

looked in 69

And ran after the boy as hard as she could go . 77

It was about the Princess Ina 99

The shower of stars falling on the blanket made

her think of the star-flower 121

"Take it back!" 165

MISS SANTA CLAUS OF
THE PULLMAN

MISS SANTA CLAUS OF
THE PULLMAN

CHAPTER I

THE last half hour had seemed endless
to WiU'm, almost as long as the
whole four years of his life. With his
stubby little shoes drawn up under him, and
his soft bobbed hair flapping over his ears
every time the rockers tilted forward, he
sat all alone in the sitting-room behind the
shop, waiting and rocking.

It seemed as if everybody at the Junc-
tion wanted something that afternoon;
thread or buttons or yarn, or the home-made
doughnuts which helped out the slim stock
of goods in the little notion store which had
once been the parlor. And it seemed as if

3

MISS SANTA CLAUS

Grandma Neal never would finish waiting
on the customers and come back to tell the
rest of the story about the Camels and the
Star; for no sooner did one person go out
than another one came in. He knew by
the tinkling of the bell over the front door,
every time it opened or shut.

The door between the shop and sitting-
room being closed, Will'm could not hear
much that was said, but several times he
caught the word "Clnistmas," and once
somebody said ''Santa Claus" in such a
loud happy-sounding voice that he slipped
down from the chair and ran across the room
to open the door a crack. It was only lately
that he had begun to hear much about Santa
Claus. Not until Libby started to school
that fall did they know that there is such a
wonderful person in the world. Of course
they had heard his name, as they had heard
Jack Frost's, and had seen his picture in
story-books and advertisements, but they
had n't known that he is really true till the
other children told Libby. Now nearly

OF THE PULLMAN

every day she came home with something
new she had learned about him.

WilFm must have known always about
Christmas though, for he still had a piece of
a rubber dog which his father had sent him
on his first one, and — a Teddy Bear on his
second. And while he could n't recall any-
thing about those first two festivals except
what Libby told him, he could remember the
last one perfectly. There had been a sled,
and a fire-engine that wound up with a key,
and Grandma Neal had made him some
cooky soldiers with red cinnamon-drop but-
tons on their coats.

She was n't his own grandmother, but she
had taken the place of one to Libby and him,
all the years he had been in the world.
Their father paid their board, to be sure,
and sent them presents and came to see them
at long intervals when he could get away
from his work, but that was so seldom that
Will'm did not feel very well acquainted
with him; not so well as Libby did. She
was three years older, and could even re-

5

MISS SANTA CLAUS

member a little bit about their mother before
she went off to heaven to get well. Mrs.
Neal was n't like a real grandmother in
many ways. She was almost too young,
for one thing. She was always very brisk
and very busy, and, as she frequently re-
marked, she meant what she said and she
would he minded.

That is why Will'm turned the knob so
softly that no one noticed for a moment that
the door was ajar. A black-bearded man
in a rough overcoat was examining a row
of dolls which dangled by their necks from a
line above the show case. He was saying
jokingly:

"Well, Mrs. Neal, I '11 have to be buying
some of these jimcracks before long. If
this mud keeps up, no reindeer living could
get out to my place, and it would n't do for
the young'uns to be disappointed Christmas
morning."

Then he caught sight of a section of a
small boy peeping through the door, for all
that showed of Will'm through the crack

OF THE PULLMAN

was a narrow strip of blue overalls which
covered him from neck to ankles, a round
pink cheek and one solemn eye peering out
from under his thatch of straight flaxen hair
like a little Skye terrier's. When the man
saw that eye he hurried to say: "Of course
mud oughtn't to make any diff'erence to
Santy's reindeer. They take the Shy Road,
right over the house tops and all."

The crack widened till two eyes peeped
in, shining with interest, and both stubby
shoes ventured over the threshold. A fa-
miliar sniffle made Grandma Neal turn
around.

"Go back to the fire, William," she said
briskly. "It is n't warm enough in here for
you with that cold of yours."

The order was obeyed as promptly as it
was given, but with a bang of the door so
rebellious and unexpected that the man
laughed. There was an amused expression
on the woman's face, too, as she glanced up
from the package she was tying, to explain
with an indulgent smile.

7

MISS SANTA CLAUS

"That wasn't all temper, Mr. Woods.
It was part embarrassment that made him
slam the door. Usually he does n't mind
strangers, but he takes spells like that some-
times."

"That 's only natural," was the drawling
answer. "But it is n't everybody who
knows how to manage children, Mrs. Neal.
I hope now that his stepmother when he
gets her, will understand him as well as you
do. My wife tells me that the poor little
kids are going to have one soon. How do
they take to the notion?"

Mrs. Neal stiffened a little at the ques-
tion, although he was an old friend, and his
interest was natural under the circum-
stances. There was a slight pause, then she
said :

"I haven't mentioned the subject to
them yet. No use to make them cross their
bridge before they get to it. I 've no doubt
Molly will be good to them. She was a nice
little thing when she used to go to school
here at the Junction."

8

OF THE PULLMAN

"It 's queer," mused the man, "how she
and Bill Branfield used to think so much
of each other, from their First Reader days
till both families moved away from here, and
then that they should come across each other
after all these years, from different states,
too."

Instinctively they had lowered their
voices, but Will'm on the other side of the
closed door was making too much noise of
his own to hear anything they were saying.
Lying full length on the rug in front of the
fire, he battered his heels up and down on
the floor and pouted. His cold made him
miserable, and being sent out of the shop
made him cross. If he had been allowed to
stay there 's no telling what he might have
heard about those reindeer to repeat to
Libby when she came home from school.

Suddenly Will'm remembered the last bit
of information which she had brought home
to him, and, scrambling hastily up from the
floor, he climbed into the rocking chair as
if something were after him:

9

MISS SANTA CLAUS

"Santa Claus is apt to he looking down
the chimney any minute to see how you're
behaving. And no matter if your lips don't
show it outside J he knows when you're all
puckered up with crossness and pouting on
the inside!"

At that terrible thought Will'm began to
rock violently back and forth and sing. It
was a choky, sniffling little tune that he sang.
His voice sounded thin and far away even to
his own ears, because his cold was so bad.
But the thought that Santa might be listen-
ing, and would write him down as a good
little boy, kept him valiantly at it for sev-
eral minutes. Then because he had a way
of chanting his thoughts out loud sometimes,
instead of thinking them to himself, he went
on, half chanting, half talking the story of
the Camels and the Star, which he was wait-
ing for Grandma Neal to come back and
finish. He knew it as well as she did, be-
cause she had told it to him so often in the
last week.

"An' the wise men rode through the night,
10

OF THE PULLMAN

an' they rode an' they rode, an' the bells on
the bridles went ting-a-ling! just like the
bell on Dranma's shop door. An' the drate
big Star shined down on 'em and went
ahead to show 'em the way. An' the drate
big reindeer runned along the Sky Road" —
he was mixing Grandma Neal's story now
with what he had heard through the crack
in the door, and he found the mixture much
more thrilling than the original recital.
"An' they runned an' they runned an' the
sleighbells went ting-a-ling! just like the bell
on Dranma's shop door. An' after a long
time they all comed to the house where the
baby king was at. IN'en the wise men
jumped off their camels and knelt down
and opened all their boxes of pretty things
for Him to play with. An' the reindeer
knelt down on the roof where the drate big
shining star stood still, so Santy could empty
all his pack down the baby king's chimney."
It was a queer procession which wandered
through Will'm's sniffling, sing-song ac-
count. To the camels, sages and herald

11

MISS SANTA CLAUS

angels, to the shepherds and the little woolly
white lambs of the Judean hills, were added
not only Bo Peep and her flock, but Baa the
black sheep, and the reindeer team of an un-
scriptural Saint Nicholas. But it was all
Holy Writ to WilFm. Presently the mere
thought of angels and stars and silver bells
gave him such a big warm feeling inside,
that he was brimming over with good-will
to everybody.

When Libby came home from school a
few minutes later, he was in the midst of his
favorite game, one which he played at inter-
vals all through the day. The game was
Railroad Train, suggested naturally enough
by the constant switching of cars and snort-
ing of engines which went on all day and
night at this busy Junction. It was one in
which he could be a star performer in each
part, as he personated fireman, engineer,
conductor and passenger in turn. At the
moment Libby came in he was the engine
itself, backing, puffing and whistling, his
arms going like piston-rods, and his pursed

12

OF THE PULLMAN

up little mouth giving a very fair imitation
of "letting off steam."

"Look out!" he called warningly.
"You '11 get runned over."

But instead of heeding his warning, Libby
planted herself directly in the path of the
oncoming engine, ignoring so completely the
part he was playing that he stopped short in
surprise. Ordinarily she would have fallen
in with the game, but now she seemed blind
and deaf to the fact that he was playing
anything at all. Usually, coming in the
back way, she left her muddy overshoes on
the latticed porch, her lunch basket on the
kitchen table, her wraps on their particular
hook in the entry. She was an orderly little
soul. But to-day she came in, her coat half
off, her hood trailing down her back by its
strings, and her thin little tails of tightly
braided hair fuzzy and untied, from run-
ning bare-headed all the way home to tell
the exciting news. She told it in gasps.

''You can write letters to Santa Claus —
for whatever you want — and put them up

IS

MISS SANTA CLAUS

the chimney — and he gets them — and what-
ever you ask for he 'II bring you — if you 're
goodr

Instantly the engine was a little boy
again all a-tingle with this new delicious
mystery of Christmastide. He climbed up
into the rocking chair and listened, the rapt
look on his face deepening. In proof of
what she told, Libby had a letter all written
and addressed, ready to send. One of the
older girls had helped her with it at noon,
and she had spent the entire afternoon re-
cess copying it. Because she was just
learning to write, she made so many mis-
takes that it had to be copied several times.
She read it aloud to Will'm.

*'Dear Santa Claus: — Please bring me a
little shiny gold ring like the one that
Maudie Peters wears. Yours truly, Libby
Branfield."

"Nowl you watch, and you '11 see me send
it up the chimney when I get my muddy
overshoes off and my hands washed. This
might be one of the times when he 'd be

14

OF THE PULLMAN^

looking down, and it 'd be better for me to
be all clean and tidy."

Breathlessly WilFm waited till she came
back from the kitchen, her hands and face
shining from the scrubbing she had given
them with yellow laundry soap, her hair
brushed primly back on each side of its part-
ing and her hair ribbons freshly tied. Then
she knelt on the rug, the fateful missive in
her hand.

"Maudie is going to ask for 'most a dozen
presents," she said. "But as long as this
will be Santy's first visit to this house I 'm
not going to ask for more than one thing,
and you mustn't either. It wouldn't be
polite."

"But we can ask him to bring a ring to
Dranma," Will'm suggested, his face beam-
ing at the thought. The answer was posi-
tive and terrible out of her wisdom newly
gained at both church and school.

"No, we can't! He only brings things to
people who bleeve in him. It 's the same
way it is about going to Heaven. Only

15

MISS SANTA CLAUS

those who bleeve will be saved and get

in."

"Dranma and Uncle Neal will go to
Heaven," insisted Will'm loyally, and in a
tone which suggested his willingness to hurt
her if she contradicted him. Uncle Neal
was "Dranma's" husband.

"Oh, of course, they '11 go to Heaven all
right," was Libby's impatient answer.
"They Ve got faith in the Bible and the
minister and the heathen and such things.
But they won't get anything in their stock-
ings because they are n't sure about there
even being sl Santa Claus! So there!"

"Well, if Santa Claus won't put anything
in my Dranma Neal's stocking, he 's a mean
old thing, and I don't want him to put any-
thing in mine," began Will'm defiantly, but
was silenced by the sight of Libby's horrified
face.

"Oh, brother ! ^'Hushr she cried, darting
a frightened glance over her shoulder to-
wards the chimney. Then in a shocked
whisper which scared Will'm worse than a

16

OF THE PULLMAN

loud yell would have done, she said im-
pressively, "Oh, I hope he has n't heard you!
He never would come to this house as long
as he lives ! And I could n't hear for us to
find just empty stockings Christmas morn-
ing."

There was a tense silence. And then,
still on her knees, her hands still clasped
over the letter, she moved a few inches
nearer the fireplace. The next instant
Will'm heard her call imploringly up the
chimney, "Oh, dear Santa Claus, if you 're
up there looking down, please don't mind
what Will'm said. He 's so little he does n't
know any better. Please forgive him and
send us what we ask for, for Jesus' sake.
Amen!"

Fascinated, Will'm watched the letter
flutter up past the flames, drawn by the
strong draught of the flue. Then suddenly
shamed by the thought that he had been pub-
licly prayed for, out loud and in the daytime,
he ran to cast himself on the old lounge, face
downward among the cushions.

17

MISS SANTA CLAUS

Libby herself felt a trifle constrained after
her unusual performance, and to cover her
embarrassment seized the hearth broom and
vigorously swept up the scraps of half-dried
mud which she had tracked in a little while
before. Then she stood and drummed on
the window pane a long time, looking out
into the dusk which always came so surpris-
ingly fast these short winter days, almost
the very moment after the sun dropped down
behind the cedar trees.

It was a relief to both children when
Grandma Neal came in with a lighted lamp.
Her cheerful call to know who was going to
help her set the supper table, gave Will'm
an excuse to spring up from the lounge
cushions and face his little world once more
in a natural and matter-of-course way. He
felt safer out in the bright warm kitchen.
No stern displeased eye could possibly peer
at him around the bend of that black shining
stove-pipe. There was comfort in the
savory steam puffing out from under the
lid of the stew-pan on the stove. There was

18

Oh, dear Santa Claus "

OF THE PULLMAN

reassurance in the clatter of the knives and
forks and dishes which he and Libby put
noisily in place on the table. But when
Grandma Neal started where she had
left off, to finish the story of the Camels and
the Star, he interrupted quickly to ask in-
stead for the tale of Goldilocks and the
Three Bears. The Christmas Spirit had
gone out of him. He could not listen to
the story of the Star. It lighted the way
not only of the camel caravan, but of the
Sky Road too, and he didn't want to be
reminded of that Sky Boad now. He was
fearful that a cold displeasure might be
filling the throat of the sitting-room chim-
ney. If Santa Claus had happened to be
listening when he called him a mean old
thing, then had he ruined not only his own
chances, but Libby's too. That fear fol-
lowed him all evening. It made him
vaguely uncomfortable. Even when they
sat down to supper it did something to his
appetite, for the dumpling stew did not taste
as good as usual.

21

CHAPTER II

IT was several days before Will'm lost
that haunting fear of having displeased
the great power up the chimney past all for-
giveness. It began to leave him gradually
as Libby grew more and more sure of her
own state of favor. She was so good in
school now that even the teacher said no-
body could be better, no matter how hard
he tried. She stayed every day to help
clean the blackboards and collect the pen-
cils. She never missed a syllable nor stepped
off the line in spelling class, nor asked for a
drink in lesson time. And she and Maudie
Peters had made it up between them not to
whisper a single word until after Christmas.
She was sure now that even if Santa Claus
had overheard Will'm, her explanation that
he was too little to know any better had
made it all right.

22

MISS SANTA CLAUS

It is probable, too, that Will'm's state of
body helped his state of mind, for about this
time his cold was well enough for him to
play out of doors, and the thought of stars
and angels and silver bells began to be agree-
able again. They gave him that big, warm
feeling inside again; the Christmas feeling
of good-will to everybody.

One morning he was sitting up on a post
of the side yard fence, when the passenger
train Number Four came rushing in to the
station, and was switched back on a side
track right across the road from him. It
was behind time and had to wait there for
orders or till the Western Flyer passed it,
or for some such reason. It was a happy
morning for Will'm. There was nothing he
enjoyed so much as having one of these long
Pullman trains stop where he could watch it.
Night after night he and Libby had flat-
tened their faces against the sitting-room
window to watch the seven o'clock limited
pass by. Through its briUiantly lighted
windows they loved to see the passengers at

23

MISS SANTA CLAUS

dinner. The white tables with their gleam
of glass and shine of silver and glow of
shaded lights seemed wonderful to them
More wonderful still was it to be eating as
unconcernedly as if one were at home, with
the train jiggling the tables while it leaped
across the country at its highest speed. The
people who could do such things must be
wonderful too.

There were times when passengers
flattening their faces against the glass to see
why the train had stopped, caught the gleam
of a cheerful home window across the road,
and holding shielding hands at either side
of their eyes, as they peered through the
darkness, smiled to discover those two eager
little watchers, who counted the stopping
of the Pullman at this Junction as the
greatest event of the day.

Will'm and Libby knew nearly every en-
gineer and conductor on the road by sight,
and had their own names for them. The
engineer on this morning train they called
Mr. Smiley, because he always had a cheer-

24>

OF THE PULLMAN

ful grin for them, and sometimes a wave of
his big grimy hand. This time Mr. Smiley
was too busy and too provoked by the delay
to pay any attention to the small boy perched
on the fence post. Some of the passengers
finding that they might have to wait half an
hour or more began to climb out and walk
up and down the road past him. Several
of them attracted by the wares in the win-
dow of the little notion shop which had once
been a parlor, sauntered in and came out
again, eating some of Grandma Neal's
doughnuts. Presently Will'm noticed that
everybody who passed a certain sleeping
coach, stooped down and looked under it.
He felt impelled to look under it himself
and discover why. So he climbed down
from the post and trudged along the road,
kicking the rocks out of his way with stubby
little shoes already scuffed from much pre-
vious kicking. At the same moment the
steward of the dining-car stepped down from
the vestibuled platform, and strolled towards
him, with his hands in his trousers' pockets.

25

MISS SANTA CLAUS

"Hullo, son!" he remarked good-hu-
moredly in passing, giving an amused
glance at the solemn child stuif ed into a gray
sweater and blue mittens, with a toboggan
cap pulled down over his soft bobbed hair.
Usually WilFm responded to such greet-
ings. So many people came into the shop
that he was not often abashed by strangers.
But this time he was so busy looking at some-
thing that dangled from the steward's vest
pocket that he failed to say "Hullo" back at
him. It was what seemed to be the smallest
gold watch he had ever seen, and it im-
pressed him as very queer that the man
should wear it on the outside of his pocket
instead of the inside. He stopped still in
the road and stared at it until the man
passed him, then he turned and followed him
slowly at a distance.

A few rods further on, the steward stooped
and looked under the coach, and spoke to a
man who was out of sight, but who was ham-
mering on the other side. A voice called
back something about a hot-box and cutting

26

OF THE PULLMAN

out that coach, and reminded of his original
purpose, WilFm followed on and looked,
likewise. Although he squatted down and
looked for a long time he could n't see a
single box, only the legs of the man who was
hammering on the other side. But just as
he straightened up again he caught the
gleam of something round and shiningly
golden, something no bigger than a quarter,
lying almost between his feet. It was a
tiny baby wiatch like the one that swung
from the steward's vest pocket.

Thrilled by the discovery, Will'm picked
it up and fondled it with both little blue mit-
tens. It did n't tick when he held it to his
ear, and he could n't open it, but he was sure
that Uncle Neal could open it and start it
to going, and he was sure that it was the
littlest watch in the world. It never oc-
curred to him that finding it had n't made it
his own to have and to carry home, just like
the rainbow-lined mussel shells that he some-
times picked up on the creek bank, or the sil-
ver dime he had once found in a wagon rut.

27

MISS SANTA CLAUS

Then he looked up to see the steward
strolling back towards him again, his hands
still in his trousers' pockets. But this time
no fascinating baby watch bobbed back and
forth against his vest as he walked, and
Will'm knew with a sudden stab of disap-
pointment that was as bad as earache, that
the watch he was fondling could never be
his to carry home and show proudly to
Uncle Neal. It belonged to the man.

"Here !" he said, holding it out in the blue
mitten.

"Well, I vow!" exclaimed the steward,
looking down at his watchfob, and then
snatching the little disk of gold from the
outstretched hand. "I wouldn't have lost
that for hardly anything. It must have
come loose when I stooped to look under the
car. I think more of that than almost any-
thing I 've got. See ?"

And then Will'm saw that it was not a
watch, but a little locket made to hang from
a bar that was fastened to a wide black rib-
bon fob. The man pulled out the fob, and

Here ! " he said

OF THE PULLMAN

there on the other end, where it had been
in his pocket all the time, was a big watch,
as big as Will'm's fist. The locket flew
open when he touched a spring, and there
were two pictures inside. One of a lady and
one of a jolly, fat-cheeked baby.

"Well, little man!" exclaimed the stew-
ard, with a hearty clap on the shoulder that
nearly upset him. "You don't know how
big a favor you Ve done me by finding that
locket. You 're just about the nicest boy
I Ve come across yet. I '11 have to tell
Santa Claus about you. What 's your
name?"

Will'm told him and pointed across to the
shop, when asked where he lived. At the
steward's high praise Will'm was ready to
take the Sky Road himself, when he heard
that he was to be reported to the Master of
the Reindeer as the nicest boy the steward
had come across. His disappointment van-
ished so quickly that he even forgot that he
had been disappointed, and when the stew-
ard caught him under the arms and swung

31

MISS SANTA CLAUS

him up the steps, saying something about
finding an orange, he was thrilled with a wild
brave sense of adventure.

Discovering that Will'm had never been
on a Pullman since he could remember, the
steward took him through the diner to the
kitchen, showing him all the sights and ex-
plaining all the mysteries. It was as good
as a show to watch the child's face. He had
never dreamed that such roasting and broil-
ing went on in the narrow space of the car
kitchen, or that such quantities of eatables
were stored away in the mammoth refriger-
ators which stood almost toucliing the red
hot ranges. Big shining fish from far-off
waters, such as the Junction had never
heard of, lay blocked in ice in one compart-
ment. Ripe red strawberries lay in another,
although it was mid December, and in
Will'm's part of the world strawberries were
not to be thought of before the first of June.
There were more eggs than all the hens at
the Junction could lay in a week, and a
white-capped, white- jacketed colored-man

OF THE PULLMAN

was beating up a dozen or so into a white
mountain of meringue, which the passen-
gers would eat by and by in the shape of
some strange, delicious dessert, sitting at
those fascinating tables he had passed on his
way in.

A quarter of an hour later when Will'm
found himself on the ground again, gazing
after the departing train, he was a trifle
dazed with all he had seen and heard. But
three things were clear in his mind. That
he held in one hand a great yellow orange,
in the other a box of prize pop-corn, and in
his heart the precious assurance that Santa
Claus would be told by one in high authority
that he was a good boy.

So elated was he by this last fact, that he
decided on the way home to send a letter up
the chimney on his own account, especially
as he knew now exactly what to ask for.
He had been a bit hazy on the question be-
fore. Now he knew beyond all doubt that
what he wanted more than anything in the
wide world, was a ride on a Pullman car,

33

MISS SANTA CLAUS

He wanted to sit at one of those tables, and
eat things that had been cooked in that mys-
terious kitchen, at the same time that he was
flying along through the night on the wings
of a mighty dragon breathing out smoke and
fire as it flew.

He went in to the house by way of the
shop so that he might make the bell go ting-
a-ling. It was so dehghtfuUy like the bells
on the camels, also like the bells on the
sleigh which would be coming before so very
long to bring him what he wanted.

Miss Sally Watts was sitting behind the
counter, crocheting. To his question of
* 'Where 's Dranma?" she answered without
looking up.

"She and Mr. Neal have driven over to
Westfield. They have some business at the
court house. She said you 're not to go
off the place again till she gets back. I was
to tell you when you came in. She looked
everywhere to find you before she left, be-
cause she 's going to be gone till late in the
afternoon. Where you been, anyhow?"

34

OF THE PULLMAN

WiU'm told her. Miss Sally was a
neighbor who often helped in the shop at
times like this, and he was always glad when
such times came. It was easy to tell Miss
Sally things, and presently when a few di-
rect questions disclosed the fact that Miss
Sally "bleeved" as he did, he asked her an-
other question, which had been puzzling him
ever since he had decided to ask for a ride
on the train.

"How can Santa put a ride in a stock-
ing?"

"I don't know," answered Miss Sally, still
intent on her crocheting. "But then I don't
really see how he can put anything in; sleds
or dolls or anything of the sort. He 's a
mighty mysterious man to me. But then,
probably he would n't try to put the ride in
a stocking. He 'd send the ticket or the
money to buy it with. And he might give
it to you beforehand, and not wait for stock-
ing-hanging time, knowing how much you
want it."

All this from Miss Sally because Mrs.

35

MISS SANTA CLAUS

Neal had just told her that the children were
to be sent to their father the day before
Christmas, and that they were to go on a
Pullman car, because the ordinary coaches
did not go straight through. The children
were too small to risk changing cars, and
he was too busy to come for them.

Will'm stayed in the shop the rest of the
morning, for Miss Sally echoing the senti-
ment of everybody at the Junction, felt sorry
for the poor little fellow who was soon to be
sent away to a stepmother, and felt that it
was her duty to do what she could toward
making his world as pleasant as possible for
him, while she had the opportunity.

Together they ate the lunch which had
been left on the pantry shelves for them.
Will'm helped set it out on the table. Then
he went back into the shop with Miss Sally.
But his endless questions "got on her
nerves" after awhile, she said, and she sud-
denly ceased to be the good company that
she had been all morning. She mended the
fire in the sitting-room and told WilFm he 'd

36

OF THE PULLMAN

better play in there till Libby came home.
It was an endless afternoon, so long that
after he had done everything that he could
think of to pass the time, he decided he 'd
write his own letter and send it up the chim-
ney himself. He could n't possibly wait for
Libby to come home and do it. He 'd write
a picture letter. It was easier to read pic-
tures than print, anyhow^ At least for
him. He slipped back into the shop long
enough to get paper and a pencil from the
old secretary in the corner, and then lying
on his stomach on the hearth-rug with his
heels in the air, he began drawing his favor-
ite sketch, a train of cars.

All that can be said of the picture is that
one could recognize what it was meant for.
The wheels were wobbly and no two of the
same size, the windows zigzagged in uneven
lines and were of varied shapes. The cow-
catcher looked as if it could toss anything it
might pick up high enough to join the cow
that jumped over the moon. But it was
unmistakably a train, and the long line of

37

MISS SANTA CLAUS

smoke pouring back over it from the tipsy
smoke-stack showed that it was going at
the top of its speed. Despite the straggling
scratchy hnes any art critic must acknowl-
edge that it had in it that intangible quality
known as life and "go."

It puzzled Will'm at first to know how to
introduce himself into the picture so as to
show that he was the one wanting a ride.
Finally on top of one of the cars he drew a
figure supposed to represent a boy, and after
long thought, drew one just like it, except
that the second figure wore a skirt. He
did n't want to take the ride alone. He 'd
be almost afraid to go without Libby, and he
knew very well that she 'd like to go. She 'd
often played "S'posen" they were riding
away ofi* to the other side of the world on
one of those trains which they watched
nightly pass the sitting-room window.

.He wished he could spell his name and
hers. He know only the letters with which
each began, and he was n't sure of either
unless he could see the picture on the other

38

OF THE PULLMAN

side of the building block on which it was
printed. The box of blocks was in the
sitting-room closet. He brought it out,
emptied it on the rug and searched until he
found the block bearing the picture of a lion.
That was the king of beasts, and the L on
the other side which stood for Lion, stood
also for Libby. Very slowly and painstak-
ingly he copied the letter on his drawing,
placing it directly across the girl's skirt so
that there could be no mistake. Then he
pawed over the blocks till he found the one
with the picture of a whale. That was the
king of fishes, and the W on the other side
which stood for Whale, stood also for Wil-
liam. He tried putting the W across the
boy, but as each leg was represented by one
straight line only, bent at right angles at the
bottom to make a foot, the result was confus-
ing. He rubbed out the legs, made them
anew, and put the W over the boy's head,
drawing a thin line from the end of the W to
the crossed scratches representing fingers.
That plainly showed that the Boy and the

39

MISS SANTA CLAUS

W were one and the same, although it gave
to the unenlightened the idea that the picture
had something to do with flying a kite.
Then he rubbed out the L on Libby's skirt
and placed it over her head, likewise con-
necting her letter with her fingers.

The rubbing-out process gave a smudgy
effect. Will'm was not satisfied with the
result, and like a true artist who counts all
labor as naught, which helps him towards
that perfection which is his ideal, he laid
aside the drawing as unworthy and began
another.

The second was better. He accom-
plished it with a more certain touch and with
no smudges, and filled with the joy of a
creator, sat and looked at it a few minutes
before starting it on its flight up the flue
towards the Sky Road.

The great moment was over. He had
just drawn back from watching it start
when Libby came in. She came primly and
quietly this time. She had waited to leave
her overshoes on the porch, her lunch basket

40

OF THE PULLMAN

in the kitchen, her wraps in the entry. The
white ruffled apron which she had worn all
day was scarcely mussed. The bows on
her narrow braids stuck out stiffly and
properly. Her shoes were tied and the laces
tucked in. She walked on tiptoe, and
every movement showed that she was keep-
ing up the reputation she had earned of be-
ing *'so good that nobody could be any bet-
ter, no matter how hard he tried." She
had been that good for over a week.

Will'm ran to get the orange which had
been given him that morning. He had been
saving it for this moment of division. He
had already opened the pop-corn box and
found the prize, a little china cup no larger
than a thimble, and had used it at lunch,
dipping a sip at a time from his glass of milk.

The interest with which she listened to
his account of finding the locket and being
taken aboard the train made him feel like a
hero. He hastened to increase her respect.

"Nen the man said that I was about the
nicest little boy he ever saw and he would

41

MISS SANTA CLAUS

tell Santa Claus so. An' I knew everything
was all right so I Ve just sended a letter up
to tell him to please give me a ride on the
Pullman train."

Libby smiled in an amused, big-sister sort
of way, asking how WilFm supposed any-
body could read his letters. He couldn't
write anything but scratches.

"But it was a picture letter!" Will'm ex-
plained triumphantly. "Anybody can read
picture letters." Then he proceeded to tell
what he had made and how he had marked
it with the initials of the Lion and the
Whale.

To his intense surprise Libby looked first
startled, then troubled, then despairing.
His. heart seemed to drop down into his
shoes when she exclaimed in a tragic tone:

"Well, Will'm Branfield! If you
have n't gone and done it ! I don't know
what ever is going to happen to us now!"

Then she explained. She had already
written a letter for him, with Susie Peters's
help, asking in writing what she had asked

42

OF THE PULLMAN

before by word of mouth, that he be for-
given, and requesting that he might not find
his stocking empty on Christmas morning.
As to what should be in it, she had left that
to Santa's generosity, because Will'm had
never said what he wanted.

"And now," she added reproachfully,
"I've told you that we ought n't to ask for
more than one thing apiece, 'cause this is
the first time he 's ever been to this house,
and it does n't seem polite to ask f ^r so much
from a stranger."

Will'm defended himself, his chin tilted
at an angle that should have been a warning
to one who could read such danger signals.

"I only asked for one thing for me and
one for you."

"Yes, but don't you see, I had already
asked for something for each of us, so that
makes two things apiece," was the almost
tearful answer.

"Well, I aren't to blame," persisted
Will'm, "you didn't tell me what you'd
done."

43

MISS SANTA CLAUS

"But you ought to have waited and asked
me before you sent it," insisted Libby.

"I oughtn't!"

"You ought,! say!" This with a stamp
of her foot for emphasis.

"I oughtn't, Miss Smarty!" This time
a saucy little tongue thrust itself out at her
from WilFm's mouth, and his face was
screwed into the ugliest twist he could make.

Again he had the shock of a great sur-
prise, when Libby did not answer with a
worse face. Instead she lifted her Jiead a
little, and said in a voice almost honey-sweet,
but so loud that it seemed intended for other
ears than WilFm's, "Very well, have your
own way, brother, but Santa Claus knows
that I did n't want to be greedy and ask for
two things!"

William answered in what was fairly a
shout, "An' he knows that I didn't,
neetherT

The shout was followed by a whisper:
"Say, Libby, do you s'pose he heard that?"

Libby's answer was a convincing nod.

44

CHAPTER III

AFTER spending several days won-
dering how she could best break the
news to the children that their father was
going to take them away, Mrs. Neal decided
that she would wait until the last possible
moment. Then she would tell them that
their father had a Christmas present for
them, nicer than anything he had ever given
them before. It was something that
could n't be sent to them, so he wanted them
to go all the way on the cars to his new
home, to see it. Then after they had
guessed everything they could think of, and
were fairly hopping up and down with impa-
tient curiosity, she 'd tell them what it was :
a new mother!

She decided not to tell them that they
were never coming back to the Junction to
live. It would be better for them to think

45

MISS SANTA CLAUS

of this return to their father as just a visit
until they were used to their new surround-
ings. It would make it easier for all con-
cerned if they could be started off happy
and pleasantly expectant. Then if Molly
had grown up to be as nice a woman as she
had been a young girl, she could safely trust
the rest to her. The children would soon
be loving her so much that they wouldn't
want to come back.

But Mrs. Neal had not taken into account
that her news was no longer a secret. Told
to one or two friends in confidence, it had
passed from lip to lip and had been discussed
in so many homes, that half the children at
the Junction knew that poor little Libby
and Will'm Branfield were to have a step-
mother, before they knew it themselves.
Maudie Peters told Libby on their way
home from school one day, and told it in such
a tone that she made Libby feel that having
a stepmother was about the worst calamity
that could befall one. Libby denied it
stoutly.

46

OF THE PULLMAN

''But you are!" Maudie insisted. "I
heard mama and Aunt Louisa talking
about it. They said they certainly felt
sorry for you, and mama said that she
hoped and prayed that her children would
be spared such a fate, because stepmothers
are always unkind."

Libby flew home with her tearful ques-
tion, positive that Grandma Neal would
say that Maudie was mistaken, but with a
scared, shaky feeling in her knees, because
Maudie had been so calmly and provokingly
sure. Grandma Neal could deny only a
part of Maudie's story.

"I 'd like to spank that meddlesome
Peters child!" she exclaimed indignantly.
"Here I Ve been keeping it as a grand sur-
prise for you that your father is going to
give you a new mother for Christmas, and
thinking what a fine time you 'd have going
on the cars to see them, and now Maudie
has to go and tattle, and tell it in such
an ugly way that she makes it seem like
something bad, instead of the nicest

47

MISS SANTA CLAUS

thing that could happen to you. Listen,
Libby!"

For Libby, at this confirmation of
Maudie's tale, instead of the denial which
she hoped for, had crooked her arm over her
face, and was crying out loud into her little
brown gingham sleeve, as if her heart would
break. Mrs. Neal sat down and drew the
sobbing child into her lap.

"Listen, Libby!" she said again. "This
lady that your father has married, used to
live here at the Junction when she was a
little girl no bigger than you. Her name
was Molly Blair, and she looked something
like you — had the same color hair, and wore
it in two little plaits just as you do. Every-
body liked her. She was so gentle and kind
she would n't have done anything to hurt
any one's feelings any more than a little
white kitten would. Your father was a boy
then, and he lived here, and they went to
school together and played together just
as you and Walter Gray do. He 's known
her all her life, and he knew very well when

48

OF THE PULLMAN

he asked her to take the place of a mother
to his little children that she 'd be dear and
good to you. Do you think that you could
change so in growing up that you could be
unkind to any little child that was put in
your care?"

"No— o!" sobbed Libby.

"And neither could she!" was the em-
phatic answer. "You can just tell Maudie
Peters that she doesn't know what she is
talking about."

Libby repeated the message next day, em-
phatically and defiantly, with her chin in the
air. That talk with Grandma Neal and
another longer one which followed at bed-
time, helped her to see things in their
right light. Besides, several things which
Grandma Neal told her made a visit to her
father seem quite desirable. It would be
fine to be in a city where there is something
interesting to see every minute. She knew
from other sources that in a city you might
expect a hand-organ and a monkey to come
down the street almost any day. And it

49

MISS SANTA CLAUS

would be grand to live in a house like the one
they were going to, with an up-stairs to it,
and a piano in the parlor.

But despite Mrs. Neal's efforts to set
matters straight, the poison of Maudie's
suggestion had done its work. Will'm had
been in the room when Libby came home
with her question, and the wild way she
broke out crying made him feel that some-
thing awful was going to happen to them.
He had never heard of a stepmother before.
By some queer association of words his
baby brain confused it with a step-ladder.
There was such a ladder in the shop with a
broken hinge. He was always being warned
not to climb up on it. It might fall over
with him and hurt him dreadfully. Even
when everything had been explained to him,
and he agreed that it would be lovely to
take that long ride on the Pullman to see
poor father, who was so lonely without his
little boy, the poison of Maudie's suggestion
still stayed with him. Something, he did n't
know exactly what, but something was go-

50

OF THE PULLMAN

ing to fall with him and hurt him dreadfully
if he didn't look out.

It's strange how much there is to learn
about persons after you once begin to hear
of them. It had been that way about Santa
Claus. They had scarcely known his name,
and then all of a sudden they heard so much,
that instead of being a complete stranger he
was a part of everything they said and did
and thought. Now they were learning just
as fast about stepmothers. Grandma and
Uncle Neal and Miss Sally told them a
great deal; all good things. And it was
surprising how much else they had learned
that was n't good, just by the wag of some-
body's head, or a shrug of the shoulders or
the pitying way some of the customers spoke
to them.

When Libby came crying home from
school the second time, because one of the
boys called her Cinderella, and told her she
would have to sit in the ashes and wear rags,
and another one said no, she 'd be like Snow-
white, and have to eat poisoned apple,

51

MISS SANTA CLAUS

Grandma Neal was so indignant that she
sent after Libby's books, saying that she
would not be back at school any more.

Next day, Libby told WilFm the rest of
what the boys had said to her. "All the
stepmothers in stories are cruel like Cin-
derella's and Snow-white's, and sometimes
they are cruel. They are always cruel
when they have a tusk." Susie Peters told
her what a tusk is, and showed her a picture
of a cruel hag that had one. "It 's an awful
long ugly tooth that sticks away out of the
side of your mouth like a pig's."

It was a puzzle for both Libby and Will'm
to know whom to believe. They had sided
with Maudie and the others in their faith in
Santa Claus. How could they tell but that
Grandma and Uncle Neal might be mis-
taken about their belief in stepmothers too?

Fortunately there were not many days
in which to worry over the problem, and the
few that lay between the time of Libby's
leaving school and their going away, were
filled with preparations for the journey.

52

OF THE PULLMAN

Of course Libby and Will'm had little part
in that, except to collect the few toys they
owned, and lay them beside the trunk which
had been brought down from the attic to
the sitting-room.

Libby had a grand washing of doll
clothes one morning, and while she was
hanging out the tiny garments on a string,
stretched from one chair-back to another,
Will'm proceeded to give his old Teddy
Bear a bath in the suds which she had left
in the basin. Plush does not take kindly to
soap-suds, no matter how much it needs it.
It would have been far better for poor
Teddy to have started on his travels dirty,
than to have become the j)itiable, bedraggled-
looking object that Libby snatched from the
basin some time later, where Will'm put
him to soak. It seemed as if the soggy cot-
ton body never would dry sufficiently to be
packed in the trunk, and Will'm would not
hear to its being left behind, although it
looked so dreadful that he didn't like to
touch it. So it hung by a cord around its

53

MISS SANTA CLAUS

neck in front of the fire for two whole days,
and everybody who passed it gave the cord
a twist, so that it was kept turning like a
roast on a spit.

There were more errands than usual to
keep the children busy, and more ways in
which they could help. As Christmas drew
nearer and nearer somebody was needed in
the shop every minute, and Mrs. Neal had
her hands full with the extra work of look-
ing over their clothes and putting every gar-
ment in order. Besides there was all the
holiday baking to fill the shelves in the shop
as well as in her own pantry.

So the children were called upon to set
the table and help wipe the dishes. They
dusted the furniture within their reach and
fed the cat. They brought in chips from
the woodhouse and shelled corn by the bas-
ketful for the old gray hens. And every
day they carried the eggs very slowly and
carefully from the nests to the pantry and
put them one by one into the box of bran
on the shelf. Then several mornings, all

54

OF THE PULLMAN

specially scrubbed and clean-aproned for
the performance, they knelt on chairs by the
kitchen table, and cut out rows and rows
of little Christmas cakes, from the sheets of
smoothly rolled dough on the floury cake
boards. There were hearts and stars and
cats and birds and all sorts of queer animals.
Then after the baking there were delightful
times when they hung breathlessly over the
table, watching while scallops of pink or
white icing were zigzagged around the stars
and hearts, and pink eyes were put on the
beasts and birds. Then of course the bowls
which held the candied icing always had to
be scraped clean by busy little fingers that
went from bowl to mouth and back again,
almost as fast as a kitten could lap with its
pink tongue.

Oh, those last days in the old kitchen and
sitting-room behind the shop were the best
days of all, and it was good that WilFm and
Libby were kept so busy every minute that
they had no time to realize that they were
last days, and that they were rapidly com-

55

MISS SANTA CLAUS

ing to an end. It was not until the last
night that Will'm seemed to comprehend
that they were really going away the next
day.

He had been very busy helping get sup-
per, for it was the kind that he specially
liked. Uncle Neal had brought in a rab-
bit all ready skinned and dressed, which he
had trapped that afternoon, and Will'm
had gone around the room for nearly an
hour, sniffing hungrily while it sputtered
and browned in the skillet, smelling more
tempting and delectable every minute.
And he had watched while Grandma Neal
lifted each crisp, brown piece up on a fork,
and laid it on the hot waiting platter, and
then stirred into the skillet the things that
go to the making of a delicious cream gravy.

Suddenly in the ecstasy of anticipation
Will'm was moved to throw his arms around
Gi'andma Neal's skirts, gathering them in
about her knees in such a violent hug that
he almost upset her.

"Oh, rabbit dravy!" he exclaimed in a tone

5Q

Oh, rabbit dravy /" he cried

OF THE PULLMAN

of such rapture that everybody laughed.
Uncle Neal, who had already taken his
place at the table, and was waiting too, with
his chair tipped back on its hind legs,
reached forward and gave Will'm's cheek a
playful pinch.

"It 's easy to tell what you think is the
best tasting thing in the world," he said
teasingly. "Just the smell of it puts the
smile on your face that won't wear off."

Always when his favorite dish was on the
table, Will'm passed his plate back several
times for more. To-night after the fourth
ladleful Uncle Neal hesitated. "Haven't
you had about all that 's good for you,
kiddo?" he asked. "Remember you 're go-
ing away in the morning, and you don't
want to make yourself sick when you 're
starting off with just Libby to look after

you."

There was no answer for a second. Then
Will'm could n't climb out of his chair fast
enough to hide the trembling of his mouth
and the gathering of unmanly tears. He

59

MISS SANTA CLAUS

cast himself across Mrs. Neal's lap, scream-
ing, "I aren't going away! I won't leave
my Dranma, and I won't go where there '11
never be any more good rabbit dravy!"

They quieted him after awhile, and com-
forted him with promises of the time when
he should come back and be their little boy
again, but he did not romp around as usual
when he started to bed. He realized that
when he came again maybe the little crib-
bed would be too small to hold him, and
things would never be the same again.

Libby was quiet and inwardly tearful for
another reason. They were to leave the
very day on the night of which people hung
up their stockings. Would Santa Claus
know of their going and follow them?
Will'm would be getting what he asked for,
a ride on the Pullman, but how was she to
get her gold ring? She lay awake quite a
long while, worrying about it, but finally de-
cided that she had been so good, so very
good, that Santa would find some way to
keep his part of the bargain. She hadn't

60

OF THE PULLMAN

even fussed and rebelled about going back
to her father as Maudie had advised her to
do, and she had helped to persuade Will'm
to accept quietly what could n't be helped.
The bell over the shop door went ting-a-
ling many times that evening to admit be-
lated customers, and as she grew drowsier
and drowsier it began to sound like those
other bells which would go tinkling along
the Sky Road to-morrow night. Ah, that
Sky Road! She wouldn't worry, remem-
bering that the Christmas Angels came
along that shining highway too. Maybe her
heart's desire would be brought to her by one
of them!

61

CHAPTER IV

ALTHOUGH L stands equally for
Libby and Lion, and W for William
and Whale, it is not to be inferred that the
two small travelers thus labeled felt in any
degree the courage of the king of beasts or
the importance of the king of fishes. With
every turn of the car wheels after they left
the Junction, Will'm seemed to grow smaller
and more bewildered, and Libby more
frightened and forlorn. In Will'm's pic-
ture of this ride they had borne only their
initials. Now they were faring forth
tagged with their full names and their
father's address. Miss Sally had done that
"in case anything should happen."

If Miss Sally had not suggested that
something might happen, Libby might not
have had her fears aroused, and if they had
been allowed to travel all the way in the

62

MISS SANTA CLAUS

toilet-room which Miss Sally and Grandma
Neal showed them while the train waited its
usual ten minutes at the Junction, they
could have kept themselves too busy to think
about the perils of pilgrimage. Never be-
fore had they seen water spurt from shining
faucets into big white basins with chained-
up holes at the bottom. It suggested magic
to Libby, and she thought of several games
they could have made, if they had not been
hurried back to their seats in the car, and
told that they must wait until time to eat,
before washing their hands.

"I thought best to tell them that," said
Miss Sally, as she and Mrs. Neal went slowly
back to the shop. "Or Libby might have
had most of the skin scrubbed off her and
Will'm before night. And I know he 'd
drink the water cooler dry just for the
pleasure of turning it into his new drinking
cup you gave him, if he hadn't been told
not to. Well, they 're off, and so inter-
ested in everything that I don't believe they
realized they were starting. There was n't

62

MISS SANTA CLAUS

time for them to think that they were really
leaving you."

"There '11 be time enough before they get
there," was the grim answer. "I should n't
wonder if they both get to crying."

Then for fear that she should start to
doing that same thing herself, she left Miss
Sally to attend to the shop, and went briskly
to work, putting the kitchen to rights. She
had left the breakfast dishes until after the
children's departure, for she had much to do
for them, besides putting up two lunches.
They left at ten o'clock, and could not reach
their journey's end before half past eight
that night. So both dinner and supper were
packed in the big pasteboard box which had
been stowed away under the seat with their
suitcase.

Miss Sally was right about one thing.
Neither child realized at first that the part-
ing was final, until the little shop was left
far behind. The novelty of their surround-
ings and their satisfaction at being really on
board one of the wonderful cars which they

64

OF THE PULLMAN

had watched daily from the sitting-room
window, made them feel that their best
''S'posen" game had come true at last.
But they hadn't gone five miles until the
landscape began to look unfamiliar. They
had never been in this direction before, to-
ward the hill country. Their drives behind
Uncle Neal's old gray mare had always been
the other way. Five miles more and they
were strangers in a strange land. Fifteen
miles, and they were experiencing the bit-
terness of "exiles from home" whom "splen-
dor dazzles in vain." There was no charm
left in the luxurious Pullman with its gor-
geous red plush seats and shining mirrors.
All the people they could see over the backs
of those seats or reflected in those mirrors
were strangers.

It made them even more lonely and aloof
because the people did not seem to be
strangers to each other. All up and down
the car they talked and joked as people in
this free and happy land always do when
it 's the day before Christmas and they are

65

MISS SANTA CLAUS

going home, whether they know each other
or not. To make matters worse some of
these strangers acted as if they knew Will'm
and Libby, and asked them questions or
snapped their fingers at them in passing in
a friendly way. It frightened Libby, who
had been instructed in the ways of travel,
and she only drew closer to Will'm and said
nothing wher; these strange faces smiled on
her.

Presently Will'm gave a little muffled sob
and Libby put her arm around his neck. It
gave him a sense of protection, but it also
started the tears which he had been fighting
back for several minutes, and drawing him-
self up into a bunch of misery close beside
her, he cried softly, his face hidden against
her shoulder. If it had been a big capable
shoulder, such as he was used to going to
for comfort, the shower would have been
over soon. But he felt its limitations. It
was little and thin, only three years older
and wiser than his own ; as a support through
unknown dangers not much to depend upon,

66

OF THE PULLMAN

still it was all he had to cling to, and he
clung broken-heartedly and with scalding
tears.

As for Libby she was realizing its limi-
tations far more than he. His sobs shook
her every time they shook him, and she could
feel his tears, hot and wet on her arm
through her sleeve. She started to cry her-
self, but fearing that if she did he might be-
gin to roar so that they would be disgraced
before everybody in the car, she bravely
winked back her own tears and took an
effective way to dry his.

Miss Sally had told them not to wash be-
fore it was time to eat, but of course Miss
Sally had not known that Will'm was going
to cry and smudge his face all over till it was
a sight. If she could n't stop him somehow
he 'd keep on till he was sick, and she 'd been
told to take care of him. The little shoul-
der humped itself in a way that showed some
motherly instinct was teaching it how to ad-
just itself to its new burden of responsibil-
ity, and she said in a comforting way,

67

MISS SANTA CLAUS

"Come on, brother, let 's go and try what
it 's like to wash in that big white basin with
the chained-up hole in the bottom of it."

There was a bowl apiece, and for the first
five minutes their hands were white ducks
swimming in a pond. Then the faucets
were shining silver dragons, spouting out
streams of water from their mouths to drown
four little mei'maids, who were not real mer-
maids, but children whom a wicked witch
had changed to such and thrown into a pool.
Then they blew soap-bubbles through their
hands, till Will'm's squeal of delight over
one especially fine bubble, which rested on
the carpet a moment, instead of bursting,
brought the porter to the door to see what
was the matter.

They were not used to colored people.
He pushed aside the red plush curtain and
looked in, but the bubble had vanished, and
all he saw was a slim little girl of seven
snatching up a towel to polish the red cheeks
of a chubby boy of four. When they went
back to their seats their finger tips were curi-

68

He pushed aside the red plush curtain and looked in

OF THE PULLMAN

ously wrinkled from long immersion in the
hot soap-suds, but the ache was gone out of
their throats, and Libby thought it might
be well for them to eat their dinner while
their hands were so very clean. It was only
quarter past eleven, but it seemed to them
that they had been traveling nearly a whole
day.

A chill of disappointment came to Will'm
when his food was handed to him out of a
pasteboard box. He had not thought to eat
it in this primitive fashion. He had ex-
pected to sit at one of the little tables, but
Libby did n't know what one had to do to
gain the privilege of using them. The trip
was not turning out to be all he had fondly
imagined. Still the lunch in the pasteboard
box was not to be despised. Even disap-
pointment could not destroy the taste of
Grandma Neal's chicken sandwiches and
blackberry jam.

By the time they had eaten all they
wanted, and tied up the box and washed
their hands again (no bubbles and games

71

MISS SANTA CLAUS

this time for fear of the porter) it had begun
to snow, and they found entertainment in
watching the flakes that swirled against the
panes in all sorts of beautiful patterns.
They knelt on opposite seats, each against
a window. Sometimes the snow seemed to
come in sheets, shutting out all view of the
little hamlets and farm houses past which
they whizzed, with deep warning whistles,
and sometimes it lifted to give them
glimpses of windows with holly wreaths
hanging from scarlet bows, and eager little
faces peering out at the passing train — the
way theirs used to peer, years ago, it seemed,
before they started on this endless journey.
It makes one sleepy to watch the snow
fall for a long time. After awhile Will'm
climbed down from the window and cuddled
up beside Libby again, with his soft bobbed
hair tickling her ear, as he rested against her.
He went to sleep so, and she put her arm
around his neck again to keep him from
slipping. The card with which Miss Sally
had tagged him, slid along its cord and stuck

72

OF THE PULLMAN

up above his collar, prodding his chin.
Libby pushed it back out of sight and felt
under her dress for her own. They must be
kept safely, "in case something should hap-
pen." She wondered what Miss Sally
meant by that. What could happen?
Their own Mr. Smiley was on the engine,
and the conductor had been asked to keep
an eye on them.

Then her suddenly awakened fear began
to suggest answers. Maybe something
might keep her father from coming to meet
them. She and Will'm wouldn't know
what to do or where to go. They 'd be lost
in a great city like the little Match Girl was
on Christmas eve, and they 'd freeze to death
on some stranger's doorstep. There was a
picture of the Match Girl thus frozen, in the
Hans Andersen book which Susie Peters
kept in her desk at school. There was a
cruel stepmother picture in the same book,
Libby remembered, and recollections of that
turned her thoughts into still deeper chan-
nels of foreboding. What would she be

73

MISS SANTA CLAUS

like ? What was going to happen to her and
Will'm at the end of this journey if it ever
came to an end? If only they could be back
at the Junction, safe and sound —

The tears began to drip slowly. She
wiped them away with the back of the hand
that was farthest away from Will'm. She
was miserable enough to die, but she did n't
want him to wake up and find it out. A
lady who had been watching her for some
time, came and sat down in the opposite seat
and asked her what was the matter, and if
she was crying because she was homesick,
and what was her name and how far they
were going. But Libby never answered
a single question. The tears just kept
dripping and her mouth working in a pite-
ous attempt to swallow her sobs, and finally
the lady saw that she was frightening her,
and only making matters worse by trying to
comfort her, so she went back to her seat.

When Will'm wakened after a while and
sat up, leaving Libby 's arm all stiff and
prickly from being bent in one position so

74

OF THE PULLMAN

long, the train had been running for miles
through a lonely country where nobody
seemed to live. Just as he rubbed his eyes
wide awake they came to a forest of Christ-
mas trees. At least, they looked as if all
they needed to make them that, was for some
one to fasten candles on their snow-laden
boughs. Then the whistle blew the signal
that meant that the train was about to stop,
and WilFm scrambled up on his knees again,
and they both looked out expectantly.

There was no station at this place of stop-
ping. Only by special order from some high
official did this train come to a halt here,
so somebody of importance must be coming
aboard. All they saw at first was a snowy
road opening through the grove of Christ-
mas trees, but standing in this road, a few
rods from the train, was a sleigh drawn by
two big black horses. They had bells on
their bridles which went ting-a-ling when-
ever they shook their heads or pawed the
snow. The children could not see a trunk
being put into the baggage car farther up

75

MISS SANTA CLAUS

the track, but they saw what happened in
the delay.

A half -grown boy, a suitcase in one hand
and a pile of packages in his arms, dashed
towards the car, leaving a furry old gentle-
man in the sleigh to hold the horses. The
old gentleman's coat was fur, and his cap
was fur, and so was the great rug which cov-
ered him. Under the fur cap was thick
white hair, and all over the bottom of his
face was a bushy white beard. And his
cheeks were red and his eyes were laugh-
ing, and if he wasn't Santa Claus's own
self he certainly looked enough like the
nicest pictures of him to be his own
brother.

On the seat beside him was a young girl,
who, waiting only long enough to plant a kiss
on one of those rosy cheeks above the snowy
beard, sprang out of the sleigh and ran after
the boy as hard as she could go. She was
not more than sixteen, but she looked like a
full-grown young lady to Libby, for her
hair was tucked up under her little fur cap

76

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And ran after the boy as hard as she could go

OF THE PULLMAN

with its scarlet quill, and the long, fur-
bordered red coat she wore, reached her
ankles. One hand was thrust through a
row of holly wreaths, and she was carrying
all the bundles both arms could hold.

By the time the boy had deposited his load
in the section opposite the children's, and
dashed back down the aisle, there was a call
of "All aboard!" They met at the door, he
and the pretty girl, she laughing and
nodding her thanks over her pile of bundles.
He raised his hat and bolted past, but
stopped an instant, just before jumping off
the train, to run back and thrust his head in
the door and call out laughingly, "Good-by,
Miss Santa Claus!"

Everybody in the car looked up and
smiled, and turned and looked again as she
went up the aisle, for a lovelier Christmas
picture could not be imagined than the one
she made in her long red coat, her arms full
of packages and wreaths of holly. The little
fur cap with its scarlet feather was pow-
dered with snow, and the frosty wind had

79

MISS SANTA CLAUS

brought such a glow to her cheeks and a
sparkle in her eyes that she looked the living
embodiment of Christmas cheer. Her en-
trance seemed to bring with it the sense of
all holiday joy, just as the cardinal's first
note holds in it the sweetness of a whole
spring.

Will'm edged along the seat until he was
close beside Libby, and the two sat and
stared at her with wide-eyed interest.

That hoy had called her Miss Santa
Claus!

If the sleigh which brought her had been
drawn by reindeer, and she had carried her
pack on her back instead of in her arms,
they could not have been more spellbound.
They scarcely breathed for a few moments.
The radiant, glowing creature took off the
long red coat and gave it to the porter to
hang up, then she sat down and began sort-
ing her packages into three piles. It took
some time to do this, as she had to refer con-
stantly to a list of names on a long strip of
paper, and compare them with the names on

80

OF THE PULLMAN

the bundles. While she was doing this the
conductor came for her ticket and she asked
several questions.

Yes, he assured her, they were due at
Eastbrook in fifteen minutes and would stop
there long enough to take water.

"Then I '11 have plenty of time to step
off with these things," she said. "And I 'm
to leave some at Centreville and some at
Ridgely."

When the conductor said something about
helping Santa Claus, she answered laugh-
ingly, "Yes, Uncle thought it would be bet-
ter for me to bring these breakable things
instead of trusting them to the chimney
route." Then in answer to a question which
Libby did not hear, "Oh, that will be all
right. Uncle telephoned all down the line
and arranged to have some one meet me at
each place."

When the train stopped at Eastbrook, both
the porter and conductor came to help her
gather up her first pile of parcels, and people
in the car stood up and craned their necks

81

MISS SANTA CLAUS

to see what she did with them. Libby and
Will'm could see. They were on the side
next to the station. She gave them to sev-
eral people who seemed to be waiting for
her. Almost immediately she was sur-
rounded by a crowd of young men and girls,
all shaking hands with her and talking at
once. From the remarks which floated in
through the open vestibule, it seemed that
they all must have been at some party with
her the night before. A chorus of good-
byes and Merry Christmases followed her
into the car when she had to leave them and
hurry aboard. This time she came in empty
handed, and this time people looked up and
smiled openly into her face, and she smiled
back as if they were all friends, sharing their
good times together.

At Centreville she darted out with the
second lot. Farther down a number of
people were leaving the day coaches, but no
one was getting off the Pullman. She did
not leave the steps, but leaned over and
called to an old colored-man who stood with

OF THE PULLMAN

a market basket on his arm. "This way,
Mose. Quick!"

Then Will'm and Libby heard her say:
"Tell 'Old Miss' that Uncle Norse sent this
holly. He wanted her to have it because it
grew on his own place and is the finest in
the country. Don't knock the berries off,
and do be careful of this biggest bundle. I
wouldn't have it broken for anything.
And — oh, yes, Mose" (this in a lower tone),
"this is for you."

What it was that passed from the little
white hand into the worn brown one of the
old servitor was not discovered by the in-
terested audience inside the car, but they
heard a chuckle so full of pleasure that some
of them echoed it unconsciously.

"Lawd bless you, li'l' Miss, you sho' is
the flowah of the Santa Claus fambly!"

When she came in this time, a motherly
old lady near the door stopped her, and smil-
ing up at her through friendly spectacles,
asked if she were going home for Christmas.

"Yes!" was the enthusiastic answer.

83

MISS SANTA CLAUS

"And you know what that means to a Fresh-
man— her first homecoming after her first
term away at school. I should have been
there four days ago. Our vacation began
last Friday, but I stopped over for a house-
party at my cousin's. I was wild to get
home, but I could n't miss this visit, for she 's
my dearest chum as well as my cousin, and
last night was her birthday. Maybe you no-
ticed all those people who met me at East-
brook. They were at the party."

"That was nice," answered the little old
lady, bobbing her head. "Very nice, my
dear. And now you '11 be getting home at
the most beautiful time in all the year."

"Yes, I think so," was the happy answer.
"Christmas eve to me always means going
around with father to take presents, and I
would n't miss it for anything in the world.
I 'm glad there 's enough snow this year for
us to use the sleigh. We had to take the
auto last year, and it was n't half as much
fun."

Libby and Will'm scarcely moved after

84

OF THE PULLMAN

that, all the way to Ridgely. Nor did they
take their eyes off her. Mile after mile they
rode, barely batting an eyelash, staring at her
with unabated interest. At Ridgley she
handed off all the rest of the packages and
all of the holly wreaths but two. These she
hung up out of the way over her windows,
then taking out a magazine, settled herself
comfortably in the end of the seat to read.
On her last trip up the aisle she had no-
ticed the wistful, unsmiling faces of her little
neighbors across the way, and she wondered
why it was that the only children in the coach
should be the only ones who seemed to have
no share in the general joyousness. Some-
thing was wrong, she felt sure, and while she
was cutting the leaves of the magazine, she
stole several glances in their direction. The
little girl had an anxious pucker of the brows
sadly out of place in a face that had not yet
outgrown its baby innocence of expression.
She looked so little and lorn and troubled
about something, that Miss Santa Claus
made up her mind to comfort her as soon as

85

MISS SANTA CLAUS

she had an opportunity. She knew better
than to ask for her confidence as the well-
meaning lady had done earlier in the
day.

When she began to read, Will'm drew a
long breath and stretched himself. There
was no use watching now when it was evi-
dent that she was n't going to do anything
for awhile, and sitting still so long had made
him fidgety. He squirmed off the seat, and
up into the next one, unintentionally wiping
his feet on Libby's dress as he did so. It
brought a sharp reproof from the over-
wrought Libby, and he answered back in
the same spirit.

IVeither was conscious that their voices
could be heard across the aisle above the
noise of the train. The little fur cap with
the scarlet feather bent over the magazine
without the slightest change in posture, but
there was no more turning of pages. The
piping, childish voices were revealing a far
more interesting story than the printed one
the girl was scanning. She heard her own

86

OF THE PULLMAN

name mentioned. They were disputing
about her.

Too restless to sit still, and with no way
in which to give vent to his all-consuming
energy, Will'm was ripe for a squabble. It
came very soon, and out of many allusions
to past and present, and dire threats as to
what might happen to him at the end of the
journey if he didn't mend his ways, the
interested listener gathered the principal
facts in their history. The fuss ended in a
shower of tears on Will'm's part, and the
consequent smudging of his face with his
grimy little hands which wiped them away,
so that he had to be escorted once more be-
hind the curtain to the shining faucets and
the basin with the chained-up hole at the bot-
tom.

When they came back Mis-s Santa Claus
had put away her magazine and taken out
some fancy work. All she seemed to be do-
ing was winding some red yarn over a pen-
cil, around and around and around. But
presently she stopped and tied two ends with

87

MISS SANTA CLAUS

a jerk, and went snip, snip with her scissors,
and there in her fingers was a soft fuzzy-
ball. When she had snipped some more,
and trimmed it all over, smooth and even,
it looked like a little red cherry. In almost
no time she had two wool cherries lying in
her lap. She was just beginning the third
when the big ball of yarn slipped out of
her fingers, and rolled across the aisle right
under Libby's feet. She sprang to pick it
up and take it back.

"Thank you, dear," was all that Miss
Santa Claus said, but such a smile went with
it, that Libby, smoothing her skirts over her
knees as she primly took her seat again, felt
happier than she had since leaving the Junc-
tion. It was n't two minutes till the ball
slipped and rolled away again. This time
Will'm picked it up, and she thanked him in
the same way. But very soon when both
scissors and ball spilled out of her lap and
Libby politely brought her one and Will'm
the other, she did not take them.

''I wonder," she said, "if you children

88

OF THE PULLMAN

could n't climb up here on the seat with me
and hold this old Jack and Jill of a ball and
scissors. Every time one falls down and
almost breaks its crown, the other goes tum-
bling after. I 'm in such a hurry to get
through. Could n't you stay and help me a
few minutes?"

"Yes, ma'am," said Libby, primly and
timidly, sitting down on the edge of the op-
posite seat with the ball in her hands. Miss
Santa Claus put an arm around Will'm and
drew him up on the seat beside her.
''There," she said. "You hold the scissors,
Will'm, and when I 'm through winding the
ball that Libby holds, I '11 ask you to cut the
yarn for me. Did you ever see such scissors,
Libby? They 're made in the shape of a
witch. See! She sits upon the handles,
and when the blades are closed they make
the peak of her long pointed cap. They
came from the old witch town of Salem."

Libby darted a half-frightened look at
her. She had called them both by name!
Had she been listening down the chimney,

89

MISS SANTA CLAUS

too? And those witch scissors! They
looked as if they might be a charm to open
all sorts of secrets. Maybe she knew some
charm to keep stepmothers from being cruel.
Oh, if she only dared to ask! Of course
Libby knew that one mustn't *'pick up"
with strangers and tell them things. Miss
Sally had warned her against that. But
this was different. Miss Santa Claus was
more than just a person.

If Pan were to come piping out of the
woods, who, with any music in him, would
not respond with all his heart to the magic
call? If Titania were to beckon with her
gracious wand, who would not be drawn
into her charmed circle gladly? So it was
these two little wayfarers heard the call and
swayed to the summons of one who not only
shed the influence, but shared the name of
the wonderful Spirit of Yule.

90

CHAPTER V

WITH Libby to hold the ball and un-
wind the yarn as fast as it was
needed, and Will'm to cut it with the witch
scissors every time Miss Santa Claus said
"snip!" it was not long before half a dozen
little wool cherries lay in her lap. Then
they helped twist the yarn into cords on
which to tie the balls, and watched with
eyes that never lost a movement of her deft
fingers, while she fastened the cords to the
front of a red crocheted jacket, which she
took from her suitcase.

"There!" she exclaimed, holding it up for
them to admire. "That is to go in the stock-
ing of a poor little fellow no larger than
Will'm. He 's lame and has to stay in bed
all the time, and he asked Santa Claus to
bring him something soft and warm to put

91

MISS SANTA CLAUS

on when he is propped up in bed to look at
his toys."

Out of a dry throat Libby at last brought
up the question she had been trying to find
courage for.

"Is Santa Claus your father?"

*'No, but father and Uncle Norse are so
much like him that people often get them
all mixed up, just as they do twins, and since
Uncle Santa has grown so busy, he gets
father to attend to a great deal of his busi-
ness. In fact our whole family has to help.
He could n't possibly get around to every-
body as he used to when the cities were
smaller and fewer. Lately he has been
leaving more and more of his work to us.
He 's even taken to adopting people into
his family so that they can help him. In al-
most every city in the world now, he has an
adopted brother or sister or relative of some
sort, and sometimes children not much big-
ger than you, ask to be counted as members
of his family. It 's so much fun to help."

Libby pondered over this news a moment

92

OF THE PULLMAN

before she asked another question. "Then
does he come to see them and tell them what
to do?"

"No, indeed! Nobody ever sees him.
He just sends messages, something like
wireless telegrams. You know what they
are?"

Libby shook her head. She had never
heard of them. Miss Santa Claus ex-
plained. "And his messages pop into your
head just that way," she added. "I was as
busy as I could be one day, studying my Al-
gebra lesson, when all of a sudden, pop came
the thought into my head that little Jamie
Fitch wanted a warm red jacket to wear
when he sat up in bed, and that Uncle Santa
wanted me to make it. I went down town
that very afternoon and bought the wool,
and I knew that I was not mistaken by the
way I felt afterward, so glad and warm and
Christmasy. That 's why all his family love
to help him. He gives them such a happy
feeling while they are doing it."

It was Will'm's turn now for a question.

93

MISS SANTA CLAUS

He asked it abruptly \s^ith a complete change
of base.

"Did you ever see a stepmother?"

"Yes, indeed! And Cousin RosaHe has
one. She 's Uncle Norse's wife. I Ve just
been visiting them."

"Has she got a tush?"

"A what?'' was the astonished answer.

"He means tusk," explained Libby.
"All the cruel ones have 'm, Susie Peters
says."

"Sticking out this way, like a pig's,"
Will'm added eagerly, at the same time pull-
ing his lip down at one side to show a little
white tooth in the place where the dreadful
fang would have grown, had he been the
cruel creature in question.

"Mercy, noT was the horrified exclama-
tion. "That kind live only in fairy tales
along with ogres and giants. Didn't you
know that?"

Will'm shook his head. "Me an' Libby
was afraid ours would be that way, and if
she is we 're going to do something to her.

94

OF THE PULLMAN

We 're going to shut her up in a nawful
dark cellar, or — or something''

Miss Santa looked grave. Here was a
dreadful misunderstanding. Somebody had
poisoned these baby minds with suspicions
and doubts which might embitter their w^hole
lives. If she had been only an ordinary fel-
low passenger she might not have felt it her
duty to set them straight. But no descend-
ant of the family of which she was a mem-
ber, could come face to face with such a
wrong, without the impulse to make it right.
It was an impulse straight from the Sky
Road. In the carol service in the chapel,
the night before she left school, the dean had
spoken so beautifully of the way they might
all follow the Star, this Christmastide, with
their gifts of frankincense and myrrh, even
if they had no gold. Here was her oppor-
tunity, she thought, if she were only wise
enough to say the right thing!

Before she could think of a way to begin,
a waiter came through the car, sounding
the first call for dinner. Time was flying.

95

MISS SANTA CLAUS

She 'd have to hurry, and make the most of
it before the journey came to an end.
Putting the little crocheted jacket back into
her suitcase and snapping the clasps she
stood up. •

"Come on," she said, holding out a hand
to each. "We '11 go into the dining-car and
get something to eat."

Libby thought of the generous supper in
the pasteboard box which they had been told
to eat as soon as it was dark, but she allowed
herself to be led down the aisle without a
word. A higher power was in authority
now. She was as one drawn into a fairy
ring.

Now at last, the ride on the Pullman
blossomed into all that Will'm had pictured
it to be. There was the gleam of glass, the
shine of silver, the glow of shaded candles,
and himself at one of the little tables, while
the train went flying through the night like
a mighty winged dragon, breathing smoke
and fire as it flew.

Miss Santa Claus studied the printed card

96

OF THE PULLMAN

beside her plate a moment, and then looked
into her pocketbook before she wrote the or-
der. She smiled a little while she was writ-
ing it. She wanted to make this meal one
that they would always remember, and was
sure that children who lived at such a place
as the Junction had never before eaten
strawberries on Christmas eve; a snow-
covered Christmas eve at that. She had
been afraid for just a moment, when she
first peeped into her purse, that there was n't
enough left for her to get them.

No one had anything to say while the
order was being filled. Will'm and Libby
were too busy looking at the people and
things around them, and their companion
was too busy thinking about something she
wanted to tell them after awhile. Presently
the steward passed their table, and Will'm
gave a little start of recognition, but he said
nothing. It was the same man whose locket
he had found, and who had promised to tell
Santa Claus about him. Evidently he had
told, for here was WiH'm in full enjoyment

97

MISS SANTA CLAUS

of what he had longed for. The man did
not look at WilFm, however. He was too
busy attending to the wants of impatient
grown people to notice a quiet little boy who
sat next the wall and made no demands.

Then the waiter came, balancing an enor-
mous tray on one hand, high above his head,
and the children watched him with the
breathless fascination with which they would
have watched a juggler play his tricks. It
was a simple supper, for Miss Santa Claus
was still young enough to remember what
had been served to her in her nursery days,
but it was crowned by a dish of enormous
strawberries, such as Will'm had seen in the
refrigerator of the car kitchen, but nowhere
else. They never grew that royal size at the
Junction.

But what made the meal more than one of
mortal enjoyment, and transformed the
earthly food into ambrosia of the gods, was
that while they sifted the powdered sugar
over their berries. Miss Santa Claus began to
tell them a story. It was about the Princess

98

i^% ))■

*^^:,| ^J'^':''-^? .. ^^W* . ■ #1

It was about the Princess Ina

OF THE PULLMAN

Ina, who had six brothers whom a wicked
witch changed into swans. It was a very in-
teresting story, the way she told it, and more
than once both Libby and Will'm paused
with their spoons half way from berries to
mouth, the better to listen. It was quite
sad, too, for only once in twenty-four hours,
and then just for a few moments, could the
princes shed their swan-skins and be real
brothers again. At these times they would
fly back to their sister Ina, and with tears in
their eyes, beg her to help them break the
cruel charm.

At last she found a way, but it would be a
hard way for her. She must go alone, and in
the fearsome murk of the gloaming, to a spot
where wild asters grow. The other name
for them is star-flower. If she could pick
enough of these star-flowers to weave into a
mantle for each brother, which would cover
him from wing-tip to wing-tip, then they
would be free from the spell as soon as it
was thrown over them. But the flowers
must be gathered in silence. A single word

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MISS SANTA CLAUS

spoken aloud would undo all her work.
And it would be a hard task, for the star-
flowers grew only among briars and weeds,
and * her hands would be scratched with
thorns and stung by nettles. Yet no matter
how badly she was torn or blistered she must
not break her silence by one word of com-
plaint.

Now the way Miss Santa told that story
made you feel that it was you and not the
Princess Ina who was groping through the
fearsome gloaming after the magic flowers.
Once Libby felt the scratch of the thorns so
plainly that she said "oo-oh" in a whisper,
and looked down at her own hands, half ex-
pecting to see blood on them. And Will'm
forgot to eat entirely, when it came to the
time of weaving the last mantle, and there
wasn't quite enough material to piece it
out to the last wing-tip. Still there was
enough to change the last swan back into a
real brother again, even if one arm never
was quite as it should be; and when all six
brothers stood around their dear sister,

102

OF THE PULLMAN

weeping tears of joy at their deliverance,
Will'm's face shone as if he had just been
delivered from the same fate himself.

"Now," said Miss Santa Claus, when the
waiter had brought the bill and gone back
for some change, "y^^ must never, never
forget that story as long as you live. I 've
told it to you because it 's a true charm that
can be used for many things. Aunt Ruth
told it to me. She used it long ago, when she
wanted to change Rosalie into a real daugh-
ter, and I used it once when I wanted to
change a girl who was just a pretend friend,
into a real one. And you are to use it to
change your stepmother into a real mother!
I '11 tell you how when we go back to our
seats."

On the way back they stopped in the vesti-
bule between the cars for a breath of fresh
air, and to look out on the snow-covered
country, lying white in the moonlight. The
flakes were no longer falling.

"I see the Sky Road!" sang out Will'm
in a happy sort of chant, pointing up at the

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MISS SANTA CLAUS

glittering milky way. ^Tretty soon the
drate big reindeer 11 come running down
that road!"

"And the Christmas Angels," added
Libby reverently, in a half whisper.

"And there 's where the star-flowers
grow," Miss Santa Claus chimed in, as if she
were singing. "Once there was a dear poet
who called the stars 'the forget-me-nots of
the angels.' I believe I '11 tell you about
them right now, while we 're out here where
we can look up at them. Oh, I wonder if I
can make it plain enough for you to under-
stand me!"

With an arm around each child's shoulder
to steady them while they stood there, rock-
ing and swaying with the motion of the
lurching train, she began :

"It 's this way. When you go home,
probably there '11 be lots of things that you
won't like, and that you won't want to do.
Things that will seem as disagreeable as
Ina's task was to her. They won't scratch
and blister your hands, but they '11 make you

104

OF THE PULLMAN

feel all scratchy and hot and cross. But if
you go ahead as Ina did, without opening
your lips to complain, it will he like 'picking
a little white star-flower xvhose name is obe-
dience. The more you pick of them the
more you will have to weave into your
mantle. And sometimes you will see a
chance to do something to help her or to
please her, without waiting to be asked.
You may have to stop playing to do it, and
give up your own pleasure. That will
scratch your feelings some, but doing it will
be like picking a big golden star-flower
whose name is kindness. And if you keep
on doing this, day after day as Ina did, with
never a word of complaint, the time will
come when you have woven a big, beautiful
mantle whose name is love. And when it
is big enough to reach from 'wing-tip to
wing-tip' you '11 find that she has grown to
be just like a real mother. Do you under-
stand?"

"Yes, ma'am," answered Libby solemnly.
Will'm did not answer, but the far-off look

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MISS SANTA CLAUS

in his eyes showed that he was pondering
over what she had just told him.

"Now we must run along in," she said
briskly. "It 's cold out here." Inside, she
looked at her watch. It was after seven.
Only a little more than an hour, and the
children would be at the end of their jour-
ney. Not much longer than that and she
would reach hers. It had been a tiresome
day for both Libby and Will'm. Although
their eyes shone with the excitement of it,
the Sandman was not far away. It was
their regular bedtime, and they were yawn-
ing. At a word from Miss Santa Claus the
porter brought pillows and blankets. She
made up a bed for each on opposite seats
and tucked them snugly in.

"Now," she said, bending over them,
"You '11 have time for a nice long nap be-
fore your father comes to take you off.
But before you go to sleep, I want to tell
you one more thing that you must remem-
ber forever. You must always get the
right kind of start. It 's like hooking

106

OF THE PULLMAN

up a dress, you know. If you start
crooked it will keep on being crooked
all the way down to the bottom, unless you
undo it and begin over. So if I were you,
I 'd begin to work that star-flower charm
the first thing in the morning. Kemember
you can work it on anybody if you try hard
enough. And remember that it is true,
just as true as it is that you 're each going
to have a Christmas stocking!"

She stooped over each in turn and kissed
their eyelids down with a soft touch of her
smiling lips that made Libby thrill for days
afterward, whenever she thought of it. It
seemed as if some royal spell had been laid
upon them with those kisses; some spell to
close their eyes to nettles and briars, and
help them to see only the star-flowers.

In less than five minutes both Libby and
Will'm were sound asleep, and the porter
was carrying the holly wreaths and the red
coat and the suitcase back to the state-room
which had been vacated at the last stopping
place. In two minutes more Miss Santa

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MISS SANTA CLAUS

Claus had emptied her suitcase out on the
seat beside her, and was scrabbling over the
contents in wild haste. For no sooner had
she mentioned stockings to the children than
pop had come one of those messages straight
from the Sky Koad, which could not be dis-
regarded. Knowing that she would be on
the train with the two children from the
Junction, Santa Claus was leaving it to her
to provide stockings for them.

It worried her at first, for she could n't
see her way clear to doing it on such short
notice and in such limited quarters. But
she had never failed him since he had first
allowed her the pleasure of helping him, and
she did n't intend to now. Her mind had
to work as fast as her fingers. There
was n't a single thing among her belongings
that she could make stockings of, unless —
she sighed as she picked it up and shook out
the folds of the prettiest kimono she had
ever owned. It was the softest possible
shade of gray with white cherry blossoms
scattered over it, and it was bordered in

108

OF THE PULLMAN

wide bands of satin the exact color of a shin-
ing ripe red cherry. There was nothing else
for it, the lovely kimono must be shorn of
its glory, at least on one side. Maybe she
could spht what was left on the other side,
and reborder it all with narrower bands.
But even if she couldn't, she must take it.
The train was leaping on through the night.
There was no time to spare.

Snip! Snip! went the witch scissors, and
the long strip of cherry satin was loose in her
hands. Twenty minutes later two bright
red stockings lay on the seat in front of her,
bordered with silver tinsel. She had run
the seams hastily with white thread, all she
had with her, but the stitches did not show,
being on the inside. Even if they had
pulled themselves into view in places, all de-
fects in sewing were hidden by the tinsel
with which the stockings were bordered.
She had unwound it from a wand which she
was carrying home with several other favors
from the german of the night before. The
wand was so long that it went into her suit-

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MISS SANTA CLAUS

case only by laying it in diagonally. It
had been wrapped around and around with
yards of tinsel^ tipped with a silver-gauze
butterfly.

While she stitched she tried to think of
something to put into the stockings. Her
only hope was in the trainboy, and she sent
the porter to bring him. But when he came
he had little to offer. As it was Christmas
eve everybody had wanted his wares and
he was nearly sold out. Not a nut, not an
apple, not even a package of chewing gum
could he produce. But he did have some-
where among his things, he said, two little
toy lanterns, with red glass sides, filled with
small mixed candies, and he had several or-
anges left. Earlier in the day he had had
small glass pistols filled with candy. He
departed to get the stock still on hand.

When the lanterns proved to be minia-
ture conductor's lanterns Miss Santa Claus
could have clapped her hands with satisfac-
tion. Children who played train so much
would be delighted with them. She thrust

110

OF THE PULLMAN

one into each stocking with an orange on
top. They just filled the legs, but there
was a dismal limpness of foot which sad-
ly betrayed its emptiness. With another
glance at her watch Miss Santa Claus hur-
ried back to the dining-car. The tables were
nearly empty, and she found the steward
by the door. She showed him the stockings
and implored him to think of something to
help fill them. Hadn't he nuts, raisins,
anything, even little cakes, that she could
get in a hurry?

He suggested salted almonds and after-
dinner mints, and sent a waiter flying down
the aisle to get some. While she waited she
explained that they were for two children
who had come by themselves all the way from
the Junction. It was little Will'm's first
ride on a Pullman. The words "Junction"
and "Will'm" seemed to recall something to
the steward.

"I wonder if it could be the same little
chap who found my locket," he said. "I
took his name intending to send him some-
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MISS SANTA CLAUS

thing Christmas, but was so busy I never
thought of it again."

The waiter was back with the nuts and
mints. Miss Santa Claus paid for them,
and hurriedly returned to the state-room.
She had to search through her things again
to find some tissue paper to wrap the salted
almonds in. They 'd spoil the red satin if
put in without covering. While she was
doing it the steward came to the door.

"I beg pardon, Miss," he said. "But
would you mind showing me the little fel-
low? If it is the same one, I 'd like to leave
him a small trick I 've got here."

She pointed down the aisle to the seat
where Will'm lay sound asleep, one dimpled
fist cuddled under his soft chin. After a
moment's smiling survey the man came
back.

"That 's the kid all right," he told her.
"And he seemed to be so powerful fond of
anything that has to do with a train, I
thought it would please him to find this in
his stocking."

112

OF THE PULLMAN

He handed her a small-sized conductor's
punch. "I use it to keep tally on the order
cards," he explained, "but I won't need it
on the rest of this run."

"How lovely!" exclaimed Miss Santa
Claus. "I know he '11 be delighted, and
I 'm much obliged to you myself, for help-
ing me make his stocking fuller and nicer."

She opened the magazine after he had
gone, and just to try the punch closed it
down on one of the leaves. Clip, it went,
and the next instant she uttered a soft little
cry of pleasure. The clean-cut hole that
the punch had made in the margin was
star shaped, and on her lap, where it had
fallen from the punch, was a tiny white
paper star.

"Oh, it will help him to remember the
charm!" she whispered, her eyes shining
with the happy thought. "If I only had
some kind of a reminder for Libby, too I"

Then, all of a sudden came another
message, straight from the Sky Road ! She
could give Libby the little gold ring which

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MISS SANTA CLAUS

had fallen to her lot the night before in her
slice of the birthday cake. There had been
a ring, a thimble and a dime in the cake,
and she had drawn the ring. It was so
small, just a child's size, that she couldn't
wear it, but she was taking it home to put
in her memory book. It had been such a
beautiful evening that she wanted to mark
it with that little golden circlet, although of
course it was n't possible for her to forget
such a lovely time, even in centuries. And
Libby might forget about the star-flowers
unless she had a daily reminder.

She held it in her hand a moment, hesitat-
ing, till the message came again, ''Send itr
Then there was no longer any indecision.
When she shut it in its little box, and stuffed
the box down past the lantern and the or-
ange and the nuts and the peppermints into
the very toe, such a warm, glad Christmasy
feeling sent its glow through her, that she
knew past all doubting she had interpreted
the Sky Road message aright.

Many of the passengers had left the car

114

OF THE PULLMAN

by this time, and the greater number of
those who remained were nodding uncom-
fortably in their seats. But those who hap-
pened to be awake and alert saw a picture
they never forgot, when a lovely young girl,
her face alight with the joy of Christmas
love and giving, stole down the aisle and si-
lently fastened something on the back of the
seat above each little sleeper. It was a
stocking, red and shining as a cherry, and
silver-bordered with glistening fairy fringe..
When they looked again she had disap-
peared, but the stockings still hung there,
tokens which were to prove to those same
little sleepers on their awakening that the
star-flower charm is true. For love indeed
works miracles, and every message from the
Sky Koad is but an echo of the one the
Christmas angels sang when first they came
along that shining highway, the heralds of
good-will and peace to all the earth.

115

CHAPTER VI

CHRISTMAS morning when Will'm
awoke, he was as bewildered as if he
had opened his eyes in a new world. He
was in a little white bed, such as he had
never seen before, and the blankets were
blue, with a border of white bunnies around
each one. Between him and the rest of the
room was a folding screen, like a giant pic-
ture-book cover, showing everybody in
Mother Goose's whole family. He lay
staring at it awhile, and when he recognized
Tommy Tucker and Simple Simon and
Mother Hubbard's dog, he did n't feel quite
so lost and strange as he did at first.

Always at the Junction he had to lie still
until Uncle Neal made the fire and the room
was warm; but here it was already warm,
and he could hear steam hissing somewhere.
It seemed to be coming from the gilt pipes

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MISS SANTA CLAUS

under the window. Wondering what was
on the other side of the screen, he slid out
from under the bunny blankets and peeped
cautiously around the wall of Mother
Goose pictures. It was Libby on the other
side in another little white bed just like his.
With one spring he pounced up on top of
it, and squirmed in beside her.

The first moment of Libby's awakening
was as bewildering as Will'm's had been.
Then she began to have a confused recollec-
tion of the night before. She remembered
being lifted from the pillow on the car seat,
and hugged and kissed, and having her limp,
sleepy arms thrust into elusive coat sleeves.
Somebody held her hand and hurried her
down the aisle after her father, who was
carrying Will'm, because he was so sound
asleep that they could n't even put his over-
coat on him. It was just wrapped around
him. Then she remembered jolting across
the city in an omnibus, with her head on a
muff in a lady's lap, and of leaning against
that same lady afterwards while her clothes

117

MISS SANTA CLAUS

were being unbuttoned, and her eyelids kept
falling shvit. She had never been so sleepy
in her whole life, that she could remem-
ber.

Suddenly she sat straight up in bed and
stared at something hanging on the post
of the low footboard; a Christmas stocking
all red and silver, and for her ! Even from
where she was she could read the name that
Miss Santa Claus had printed in big let-
ters on the scrap of paper pinned to it:
"LIBBY."

Only those who have thrilled with that
same speechless rapture can know a tithe
of the bliss which filled Libby's soul, as she
seized it, her first Christmas stocking, and
began to explore it with fingers trembling
in their eagerness. When down in the very
toe she found the "little shiny gold ring like
Maudie Peters's," all she had breath for was
a long indrawn "Aw-aw-aw!" of ecstasy.

''Oh, Will'm!" she exclaimed, when she
could find speech, "are n't you glad we
bleeved?"

118

OF THE PULLMAN

"But I are n't got any stocking," he said
gloomily, eyeing her enviously while she
slipped the ring on her finger and waved
her hand around to admire the eiFect.

"But you got all you asked for; the ride
on the cars," she reminded him cheerfully.
"Did you look on your post to see if there
was anything?" No, he had not looked, and
at the suggestion he sprang out of Libby's
bed like a furry white kitten in his little
teazledown nightdrawers made with feet to
them, and knelt on top of his own bunny
blankets.

"Oh, Libby! There is one. There isr
he cried excitedly. "It slipped around to
the back of the post where I could n't see it
before. There 's an orange and a lantern
just like yours, and what 's this? Oh,
lookr

The awesome joy of his voice made Libby
join him on the other side of the Mother
Goose screen, and she snatched the little
punch from him almost as eagerly as he had
snatched it from the stocking, to try it on

119

MISS SANTA CLAUS

the slip of paper which bore the name
"WILL'M," pinned across the toe. They
had watched the conductor using his the
previous day, and had each wished for one
to use in playing their favorite game. Clip,
it went, and their heads bumped together in
their eagerness to see the result. There in
the paper was a clear-cut hole in the shape
of a tiny star, and on the blanket where it
had fallen from the hole, was the star itself.
The punch which the conductor had used
made round holes. This was a thousand
times nicer.

Up till this moment, in the bewilderment
of finding themselves in their new surround-
ings, the children had forgotten all about
Miss Santa Claus and her story of Ina and
the swans. But now Libby looked up, as
Will'm snatched back the punch and began
clipping holes in the paper as fast as he could
clip. The shower of stars falling on the
blanket made her think of the star-flower
charm, which they had been advised to begin
using first thing in the morning. Immedi-

120

The shower of stars falling on the blanket made her think
of the star-flower

OF THE PULLMAN

ately Libby retired to her side of the screen
and began to dress.

"Don't you know," she reminded Will'm,
"she said that we must be particular to start
right. It 's like hooking up a dress. If
you start crooked, everything will keep on
being crooked all the way down. I 'm go-
ing to get started right, for I Ve found it 's
just as easy to be good as it is to be bad when
you once get used to trying."

Will'm wasn't paying attention. He
had punched the slip of paper so full of holes
it wouldn't hold another one, and now he
tried the punch on the edge of one of the
soft blankets, just to see if it would make
a blue star drop out. But the punch did n't
cut blankets as evenly as it did paper.
Only a snip of wool came loose and stuck in
the punch, and the hole almost closed up
afterward when he picked at it a little. He
didn't show it to Libby.

That is the last he thought of the charm
that day, for their father put his head in at
the door to call "Merry Christmas," and say

123

MISS SANTA CLAUS

that he 'd be in in a few minutes to help him
into his clothes, and that their mother would
come too to tie Libby's hair-ribbons and
hurry things along, because they must hustle
down to breakfast to see the grand surprise
she had for them.

Then Will'm hurried so fast that he was
in his clothes by the time his father came in;
he had even washed his own face and hands
after a fashion, and there was nothing to be
done for him but to brush his hair, and while
his father was doing that, he talked and
joked in such an entertaining way that
Will'm did not feel at all strange with him
as he had expected to do. But he felt
strange when presently his father exclaimed,
''Here's mother," and somebody put her
arms around him and kissed him and wished
him a Merry Christmas, and then did the
same to Libby.

She looked so smiling and home-like that
she seemed more like Miss Sally Watts or
somebody they had known at the Junc-
tion than a stepmother. If Will'm had n't

124

OF THE PULLMAN

known that she was one, and that he was
expected to love her, he would have liked her
right away, almost as much as he did Miss
Sally. But he felt shy and uncomfortable,
and he did n't know what to call her. The
name "mama" did not belong to her. It
never could. That belonged to the beauti-
ful picture hanging on the wall where it
could be seen from both little beds, last thing
at night and first thing in the morning.
They had had a smaller picture just like it
at the Junction, but this was more beautiful
because it showed the soft pink in her cheeks
and the blue in her smiling eyes, and the
other was only a photograph. Will'm
knew as well as Libby did that the reason
their father had kept talking about "your
mother" all the time he was brushing his
hair, was because he wanted them to call her
that. But he couldn't! He didn't know
her well enough. He felt that it would
choke him to call her anything but She or
Her.

While his father carried him down to

125

MISS SANTA CLAUS

breakfast pick-a-back, She led Libby by the
hand, and told about finding the stockings
pinned to the car seats, and about a beauti-
ful girl who suddenly appeared beside her
in the aisle, and asked her to be sure to hang
them where the children could find them
first thing in the morning. Santa Claus
had asked her to be sure that they got them.
She had on a long red coat and a little fur
cap with a red feather in it. There was n't
any time to ask her questions, for while they
were trying to waken the children and hurry
them off the train which stopped such a few
minutes, she just smiled and vanished.

Libby and Will'm looked at each other
and said in the same breath, "Miss Santa
Claus!" Libby would have gone on to ex-
plain who she was, but they had reached the
dining-room door, and there in the center of
the breakfast table stood a Christmas tree,
tipped with shining tapers and every branch
a-bloom with the wonderful fruitage of
Yuletide. It was the first one they had ever
seen, all lighted and glistening, so it is no

126

OF THE PULLMAN

wonder that its glories drove everything
else out of their thoughts. There was a tri-
cycle for Will'm waiting beside his chair,
with a card on it that said "With love from
father and mother." And in Libby's chair
with the same kind of a card was a doll, with
not only real hair, but real eyelashes, and a
trunk full of the most beautiful clothes that
She had made.

As it was a holiday their father could give
his entire time to making them forget that
they were miles and miles from Grandma
Neal and the Junction. So what with the
snow fort in the yard, and a big Christmas
dinner and a long sleighride afterward, they
were whirled from one exciting thing to an-
other, till nightfall. Even then there was
no time to grow lonely, for their father sat
in the firelight, a child on each knee, holding
them close while She played on the piano,
soft sweet lullabies so alluring that the
Sandman himself had to steal out to listen.

It was different next morning when their
father had to go back to the office, but the

127

MISS SANTA CLAUS

"hooking up" started out all right for Libby.
She remembered it while she was washing
her hands, and saw the gleam of the little
new ring on her finger. So her first shy-
question when they were left alone with
Her, was: "Don't you want me to do
something?"

The desire to please was so evident that
the answer was accompanied by a quick hug
which held her close for a moment.

"Yes, dear, if you can just play with your
little brother and keep him contented awhile,
it will be more help than anything."

Libby skipped promptly away to do her
bidding. She knew that Will'm would
want to go thundering up and down the back
hall in his tricycle, playing train with the
lantern and the punch. She woilld far
rather devote her time to the new doll, for
she had n't yet tried on half its wardrobe.
But Miss Santa Claus's words came back
to her very clearly: ''It will he like pick-
ing a little white flower whose name is
obedienceT Feeling that she was foUow-

128

OF THE PULLMAN

ing in the footsteps of the Princess Ina, she
threw herself into the game of Railroad
Train until Will'm found it more thrilling
than it had ever been before.

Later in the morning they trundled the
tricycle out into the back yard, to ride up
and down the long brick pavement which
led to the alley gate. The snow had been
swept off and the bricks were dry and clean.
They took turns riding. The tricycle was
the engine, and the one whose turn it was
to go on foot ran along behind, personat-
ing the train.

They had been at this sport some time,
when they suddenly became aware that
some one was watching them. A small boy
with curious bulging eyes, and a mouth
open like a round O was peeking in at them,
between the pickets of the alley gate. He
was a boy two years bigger and older than
Will'm, but he was unkempt looking, and
his stockings wrinkled down over his shoe-
tops, and there was a ring of molasses or
jam or something around his mouth.

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MISS SANTA CLAUS

The discovery dampened their zest in the
game somewhat. It made Will'm, who had
never played with any one but Libby, a
trifle self-conscious. He stopped letting
off steam with his lips, and wheeling
around, trundled back to the house in
silence. Libby, too, was disconcerted.
Her car- wheels failed her. She trailed back
in his wake a little girl, instead of a noisy
train. Yet the discovery did not stop the
game altogether. At the kitchen steps they
turned as they had been doing all along and
bravely started towards the alley again.
This time the gate opened and the dirty
little boy came in. It was Benjy, known
to all the neighborhood, if not to them, for
he wandered around it like a stray cat.
Wherever he saw a door ajar he entered,
and stayed until something attracted his at-
tention elsewhere. He went home only
when he was sent for. If nothing of inter-
est pulled him the other way he went un-
resistingly, if not he was dragged. Wher-
ever he happened to be at mealtime, he

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stayed, whether he was invited or not.
There was something almost spooky in
Benjy's sudden appearances, and in his all-
devouring curiosity. It was n't the childish
normal kind that asks questions. It was
the gaping, uncanny kind that silently peers
over into your open pocketbook, or stands
looking into your mouth while you talk.

Older people disliked him because he
would leave his play to stand in front of
them and gape and listen, and he was al-
ways grubby and unbuttoned. Although
he was six years old it was no concern of his
that his stockings were always turning down
over his shoe tops. If the public preferred
to see them smooth then the public must at-
tend to his gartersnaps.

The tricycle having reached the end of
the walk, came to a halt. Benjy opened the
gate, walked in and took possession. It
was from no sense of fear that Will'm
climbed down and let Benjy assume control.
It was simply that a new force had come into
his life, a strangely fascinating one. He

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MISS SANTA CLAUS

had never had anything to do with boys be-
fore, and this one, bigger than himself,
dominated him from the start. He found it
much more thrilling to follow his lead than
his sister's. After a few futile attempts to
keep on with the game, Libby fell out of it.
Not that Benjy objected to her. He sim-
ply ignored her, and Will'm took his cue
from him. So she sat on the kitchen steps
and watched them, till s-be felt cold and
went into the house.

The coming of Benjy left Libby free to
turn to her o,wn affairs, but somehow she
could not do it with quite the same zest, feel-
ing that she had been shouldered out of
WilFm's game by an interloper. She thor-
oughly disapproved of Benjy from the first
glance. He was a trial to her orderly little
soul, and his lack of neatness added to
her resentment at being ignored. When
Will'm was called in out of the cold later
in the afternoon, Benjy followed as a matter
of course. Several times she fell upon him
and yanked him into shape with masterful

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OF THE PULLMAN

touches which left him as neatly geared to-
gether as Will'm always was. But by the
time he had squirmed out of her hands his
gartersnaps were out of a job again, and
his waist and little trousers were parting
company at the belt.

All that day he stayed on, till he was
dragged home at dusk like a lump of dough.
He didn't resist when the maid came for
him. He simply relaxed and left all the
exertion of getting home entirely to her.
When the door closed behind him Libby
drew a long breath of rehef as if she had
been seven and twenty instead of just seven.
He had n't done anything, but his wild sug-
gestions had kept Will'm on the verge of do-
ing things all day. He was in the act of
prying the seat off his new tricycle by
Benjy's orders when she went in and
stopped him, and she went into the nursery
just in time to keep him from doing some
unheard-of thing to the radiator, so that it
would blow off steam like a real engine.

Will'm had always been such a sensible

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MISS SANTA CLAUS

child, with a conscience of his own about in-
juring things, that she couldn't understand
why all of a sudden he should be possessed
to do a hundred things that he ought not to
do. It was a relief to find that the spell
lifted with Benjy's removal. He came and
cuddled down beside her in the big arm-
chair before the fire, waiting for supper
time to come, and somehow she felt that she
had her own httle brother again. He had
seemed like a stranger all day. But her
exile from his company had not been with-
out its compensations.

"I can play 'Three Blind Mice! See how
they run!' " she told him as they rocked back
and forth. ''She taught me. She came in
while I was touching the keys just as easy,
so they hardly made a sound, and asked me
did I want to learn to play on them. And
I said oh, yes, more than anything in the
world. And she said that was exactly the
way she used to feel when she was a little
girl like me, living at the Junction. She
wore her hair in little braids like mine and

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OF THE PULLMAN

tiptoed around like a little mouse when she
was in strange places, and sometimes when
she looked at me she could almost believe it
was her own little self come back again.
Then she showed me how to make my fin-
gers run down the keys just like the three
mice did. She 's going to teach me more
every day till I can play it for father some
night. But you must cross your heart and
body not to tell 'cause I want to s'prise
him."

Will'm crossed as directed, and stood by
much impressed when Libby climbed up on
the piano-stool and played the seven notes
which she had learned, over and over:
"Three blind mice! See how they run!"

"To-morrow she 's going to show me as
far as 'They all took after the farmer's
wife.' I wish it was to-morrow right now !"

She gave an eager little wiggle that sent
her slipping off the stool. "Oh, I like it
here, now," she exclaimed, reseating herself
and beginning an untiring reiteration of the
seven notes.

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MISS SANTA CLAUS

*'So do I — some," answered Will'm. "I
like it 'count of Benjy. But I don't like
to hear so much blind mice. You make 'm
run too long." Libby felt vaguely ag-
grieved by his criticism, but her pleasure in
her own performance was something too
great to forego.

Next morning while they were dressing,
the door opened silently and Benjy ap-
peared on Will'm's side of the screen. He
came so noiselessly that it gave Libby a
start when later on she was made aware of
his presence. His host, equally wordless,
was struggling with a little union-suit of
woolen underwear. He was wordless be-
cause he was so busily occupied trying to
get into it, and the unexpected entrance
made him still more anxious to cover him-
self. Grandma Neal had always helped
him with it, but he had valiantly fought off
all offers of help since coming to his new
home. This morning, slightly bothered
by the presence of his self-invited guest, he
got it so twisted that no matter how he

136

OF THE PULLMAN

turned it, one leg and one sleeve were al-
ways wrong side out.

Benjy, watching with his curious bulging
eyes, and his mouth making a round open O,
was of no more help than one of those
heathen idols, who having eyes, see not, and
having hands, handle not. But he finally
made a suggestion. He was eager to begin
playing.

"Aw, leave 'm go. Don't try to put 'em
on."

It was this unexpected remark in a voice,
not her brother's, which made Libby drop
her button-hook, on the other side of the
screen.

"But I '11 be cold," objected Will'm, star-
ing at the strip of wintry landscape which
showed through his window.

"Naw, you won't," was the confident
answer. "Your outside clothes are
thick."

"But I never have left them off," said
Will'm, ready to cry over the exasperating
tangle of legs and sleeves.

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MISS SANTA CLAUS

Libby, all dressed but buttoning her shoes,
heard Will'm being thus tempted of the Evil
One, and peeping around the giant picture-
book cover, discovered him standing in
nothing but his tiny knee breeches, prepar-
ing to slip his Russian blouse of blue serge
over his bare back.

"Why, Will'm Branfield! Stop this
minute and put on your underclothes!" she
demanded. Then growing desperate as her
repeated commands were not obeyed, she
called threateningly, "If you don't put them
on this minute I '11 tell on you."

"Huh ! Who '11 you tell?" jeered Benjy.
"Mr. Bramfeel 's down cellar, talkin' to the
furnace man, and Will'm does n't have to
mind Her, She ain't his mother."

The question gave Libby pause. Not
that it left her undecided about telling, but
it reminded her that she had no title to give
"Her," when she called for help. It was
like trying to open a door that had no knob,
to call into space without having any handle
of a name to take hold of first. There was

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OF THE PULLMAN

no time to loose. Will'm was buttoning
himself up in his blouse.

Libby hurried to the top of the stairs and
called: "Sa-ay!" There was no answer,
so she called again, "Sa-ay!" Then at the
top of her voice, "Say! Will'm's leaving
off his flannels. Please come and make him
behave!"

The next instant her heart began to beat
violently, and she waited in terror to see
what was going to happen. She wished
passionately that she had not told. Sup-
pose she had brought down some cruel pun-
ishment on her little brother ! Her first im-
pulse had been to array herself on the side of
law and order, but her second was to spread
her wings like an old hen in defense of its
only chick.

When She came into the room Will'm was
backed up defiantly against the wall. She
looked so pleasant and smiling as she bent
over him in her pretty morning gown, that
it took the courage out of him. If she had
been cross he could have fought her. But

139

MISS SANTA CLAUS

she just stood there looking so big and capa-
ble and calm, taking it for granted that he
would put on his flannels as soon as she
had untwisted the funny knot they were in,
that there was n't anything to do but obey.
Will'm was a reasonable child, and if they
had been alone that would have been the last
of the matter. But he resented being made
to mind before his company, and he resented
her saying to him, "Better run on home,
Benjy."

She might as well have told an oyster to
run on home. He gave no sign of having
heard her, and when the children went down
to breakfast, he calmly went with them.
He had had his, and would not sit down, but
stood leaning against the table, pushing the
cloth awry, watching every mouthful every-
body swallowed, until Libby saw her father
make a queer face. He said something to
Her in long syllabled words, so long that
only grown people could understand. And
she laughed and answered that even dis-
agreeable things might prove to be blessings

140

OF THE PULLMAN

in disguise, if they helped others to take
root in strange places.

Benjy was dragged home again before
lunch, but returned immediately after, still
chewing, and bearing traces of it on both
face and fingers. In the interval of his ab-
sence, "Mis' Bramfeel" as he called her, had
occasion to go up-stairs. On a certain step
of the stairway when her eyes were on a level
with the nursery floor, she saw through its
open door, something white, stuffed away
back under the bureau on Will'm's side of
the room. Wondering what it could be, she
went in and poked it out with a cane which
the boys had been playing with. To her
amazement the bundle proved to be Will'm's
little white union-suit. Again Libby
waited with beating heart and clasped hands
while he was called in and buttoned firmly
into it. She forbade him sternly not to take
it off again till bedtime, but nothing else
happened, and Libby breathed freely once
more. Grandma Neal would have spanked
him she thought. Will'm needed spanking

141

MISS SANTA CLAUS

now and then if one could only be sure that
it would n't be done too hard.

Mr. Branfield did not come home till late
that night. He was called out of town on
business. As soon as the telephone message
came, She gave the cook a holiday, and told
Libby she was going to get supper herself.
Libby could choose whatever she and Will'm
liked best, and they 'd surprise him with it
after Benjy had been dragged home. So
Libby chose, and was left to keep house
while She hurried down to the only place in
town where she was sure of getting what
Libby had chosen, and carried it home her-
self, and cooked it just as they used to cook
them at the Junction when she was a little
girl and lived there years ago. And Libby
had the best time helping. As she followed
Her about the kitchen she thought of the
things she intended to tell Maudie Peters
the first time they went back to the Junction
to visit.

She and Libby talked a great deal about
that prospective visit, for She had made

142

OF THE PULLMAN

playhouses under the same old thorn-tree by
the brook where Libby's last one was. And
she had coasted down Clifford hill many a
time, and she had even sat in the third seat
from the front in the row next to the west-
ern wall, one whole term of school. That
was Libby's own seat. No wonder she
knew just how Libby felt about everything
when she could remember so many experi-
ences that were like this little girl's who fol-
lowed her back and forth from table to stove,
bringing up all her own childhood before
her.

WilFm sniffed expectantly as he climbed
up to the supper table. A delicious and a
beloved odor had reached him. He smiled
like a full moon when his plate was put in
front of him, and his spoon went hurriedly
up to his mouth. "Oh, rabbit dravyT he
sighed ecstatically.

She had gone back to the kitchen for
something else, and Libby took occasion to
say reprovingly, "Yes, and She went a long,
long way to get that rabbit, just because I

143

MISS SANTA CLAUS

told her you love 'm so. And She cooked it
herself and burned her hand a-doing it. She
was gathering a star-flower for you, even if
you have been bad and forgot what Miss
Santa Claus told you!"

When She came back with the rest of the
supper, Will'm stole a glance at her hands.
Sure enough, one was bound up in a hand-
kerchief. It had not been blistered by
nettles, but it had been blistered for him.
Hastily swallowing what was in his spoon,
he slid down from the table.

"Why, what 's the matter, dear?" she
asked in surprise. "Don't you like it after
all?"

He cast one furtive, abashed look at her
as he sidled towards the door. There was
confession in that look, and penitence and
a sturdy resolve to make what atonement
he could. Then from the hall he called
back the rather enigmatical answer, "I
have n't got 'em on, but I 'm going to put
'em on!" And the "rabbit dravy" waited
while he clattered up the stairs to wriggle

144

OF THE PULLMAN

out of his suit and into the flannels, which
Benjy's jeers had made him discard just
before supper, for the third time that
day.

145

CHAPTER VII

IN the story it was six long years before
the Princess Ina completed her task, but
less than a week went by before Libby was
convinced that the charm was a potent one,
and that Miss Santa Claus had spoken
truly. But there was one thing she could
not understand. In the story, one found
the star-flowers only among nettles and
briars, and gathered them to the accompani-
ment of scratches and stings. Yet she was
finding it not only a pleasure to obey this
new authority but a tingling happiness to do
anything for her which would call forth
some smile of approval or a caress.

Still, she saw that the story way was the
true way in Will'm's case, for so many things
that he was told to do, made him feel all
"cross and scratchy and hot." They inter-
fered with his play or clashed with the ideas

146

MISS SANTA CLAUS

he imbibed from Benjy. Some of Benjy's
ideas were as "catching" and distorting as
the mumps.

The conductor's punch did not long con-
tinue to be the daily reminder to Will'm that
Libby's ring was to her, for it mysteriously
disappeared one day, and was lost for
months. It disappeared the very day that
a row of little star-shaped holes was found
along the edge of the expensive Holland
window-shade in the front window of the
parlor. Benjy had suggested punching
them. He wanted a lot of little stars to
paste all over their shoes. Why he wanted
them nobody but he could understand.

But the punch served its purpose, for the
Holland shade was not taken down on ac-
count of the holes, and whenever the row
of little stars met Molly Branfield's eyes,
they reminded her of the day when Libby
threw herself into her arms, calling her
''Mother" for the first time, and sobbing
out the story of Ina and the swans. Dis-
tressed by Will'm's wickedness, Libby

147

MISS SANTA CLAUS

begged her not to stop loving him even if
he did keep on being naughty, and to try
the charm on him which would change him
into a real little son. Many a time in the
months which followed, the row of little
holes brought a smile of tolerant tenderness,
when she was puzzling over ways to deal
with the stubbornness of the small boy who
resented her authority. She knew that it
was not because he was bad that he resented
it, but because, as Libby suggested, he had
"started out wrong in his hooking-up."
Many a time Libby was moved to say
mournfully, "Oh, if he'd just remembered
what Miss Santa Claus told him, this never
would have happened!"

It was not every day, however, that this
crookedness was apparent. Often from
daylight till dark he went happily from one
thing to another, without a single incident
to mar the peacefulness of the hours. He
liked the new home with its banisters to slide
down, and its many windows looking out on
streets where something interesting was al-

148

OF THE PULLMAN

ways happening. He liked to water the
flowers in the dining-room windows. It
made him feel that he was helping make a
spot of summertime in the world, when all
out of doors was white with snow. One of
the pots of flowers was his, a rose-geranium.
Even before the wee buds began to swell, it
was a thing of joy, for he had only to rub
his fingers over a leaf to make it send forth
a smell so good that one longed to eat it.

He liked the race down the hall every
evening trying to beat Libby to the door to
open it for their father. Now that he was
acquainted with him again, it seemed the
very nicest thing in the world to have a big
jolly father who could swing him up on his
shoulder and play circus tricks with him just
like an acrobat, and who knew fully as much
as the president of the United States.

And Will'm liked the time which often
came before that race down the hall — the
wait in the firelight, while She played on the
piano and he and Libby sang with her.
There was one song about the farmer feed-

149

MISS SANTA CLAUS

ing his flocks, "with a quack, quack here,
and a gobble, gobble there," that he liked
especially. Whenever they came to the
chorus of the flocks and the herds it was
such fun to make all the barnyard noises.
Sometimes with their lusty mooing and low-
ing the noise would be so great that they
would fail to hear the latchkey turn in the
door, and first thing they knew there their
father would be in the room mooing with
them, in a deep voice that thrilled them like
a bass drum.

Libby entered school after the holidays,
and Benjy started back on his second half-
year, but he did not go regularly. Many a
day when he should have been in his classes,
he was playing War in the Branfield attic,
or Circus in the nursery. It was always on
those days that the crookedness of Will'm
was more manifest, and for that reason, a
great efl*ort was made periodically to get
rid of Benjy. But it seemed a hopeless
task. He might be set bodily out of doors
and told to go home, but even locks and

150

OF THE PULLMAN

bolts could not keep him out. He oozed
in again somewhere, just like smoke. Re-
peated telephone messages to his mother had
no effect. She seemed as indifferent to his
being a nuisance to the neighbors as he was
to his gartersnaps being unfastened. Sev-
eral times, thinking to escape him when he
had announced his intention the night be-
fore of coming early, Mrs. Branfield took
Will'm down town with her, shopping.
But he trailed them around the streets just
like a little dog till he found them, and at-
tached himself as joyously as if they had
whistled to him. And he looked even
worse than an unwashed, uncombed little
terrier, for he was always unbuttoned and
ungartered besides.

Upon these appearances, Will'm, who a
moment before had been the most interested
and interesting of companions, pointing at
the shop windows and asking questions in
a high, happy little voice, would pull loose
from his companion's hand and fall back be-
side Benjy. The worst of it was that the

151

MISS SANTA CLAUS

unwelcome visitor rarely did anything that
could be pointed out to Will'm as an of-
fense. It was simply that his presence had
a subtle, moving quality like yeast, which
started fermentation in the Branfield house-
hold whenever he dropped into it.

Fortunately, when summer came, Benjy's
mother departed to the seashore, taking him
with her, and Will'm made the acquaintance
of the children on the next block. There
were several boys his own size who swarmed
in the Branfield yard continually. He had
a tent for one thing, which was an unusual
attraction, and a slide. Up to a reasonable
point he had access to a cooky jar and an
apple barrel. Often, little tarts found their
way to the tent on mornings when "the
gang" proposed playing elsewhere, and
often the long hot afternoons were livened
with pitchers of lemonade in which ice
clinked invitingly; a nice big chunk apiece,
which lasted till the lemonade was gone, and
could be used afterward in a sort of game.
You dropped them on the ground to see who

152

OF THE PULLMAN

could pick his up and hold it the longest with
his bare toes.

Will'm had a birthday about this time,
with five candles on his cake and five boys,
besides Libby, to share the feast. He loved
all these things. He was proud of having
treats to offer the boys which they could not
find in any other yard on that street, and in
time he began to love the hand which dealt
them out. He might have done so sooner
if Libby had not been so aggravating about
it. She always took occasion to tell him
afterward that such kindnesses were the
little golden star-flowers mother was gather-
ing for him, and that he ought to be ashamed
to do even the littlest thing she told him not
to, when she was so good to him.

Unfortunately Libby had overheard her
mother speak of her as a real little comfort
in the way she tried to uphold her authority
and help her manage Will'm. The remark
made her doubly zealous and her efforts, in
consequence, doubly offensive to Will'm.
He was learning early that a saint is one

153

MISS SAIN^TA CLAUS

of the most exasperating people in the world
to live with. Even when they don't say
anything, they can make you feel the con-
trast sometimes so strongly that you want
to be bad on purpose, just because they are
the way they are.

Libby's little ring still turned her wak-
ing thoughts in the direction of Ina and the
swans, and her morning remarks usually
pointed the same way. The cherry-red
stocking with its tinsel fringe hung from the
side of her mirror, the most cherished orna-
ment in the room, and a daily reminder of
Miss Santa Claus, who was forever en-
shrined in her little heart as one of the dear-
est memories of her life. She felt that she
owed everything to Miss Santa Claus. But
for her she might have started out crooked,
and might never have found her way to the
mother-love which had grown to be such a
precious thing to her that she could not bear
for Will'm not to share it fully with her.

He learned to fight that summer, and
nothing made him quite so furious as to have

154

OF THE PULLMAN

Libby interfere when he had some boy down,
and by sheer force of will it seemed, since
her three years' advantage in age gave her
little in strength, pull him oif his adversary,
flapping and scratching like a little game-
cock. Sometimes it made him so angry that
he wanted to tear her in pieces. The worst
of it was, that She always took Libby's part
on such occasions, and never seemed to un-
derstand that it was necessary for him to do
these things. She always looked so sorry
and worried when he was dragged into the
house, roaring and resentful.

Gradually as summer wore on into the
autumn, it began to make him feel uncom-
fortable when he saw that sorry, worried
look. It hurt him worse than when she sent
him to his room or tied him to the table leg
for punishment. And one night when he
had openly defied her and been impudent,
she did not say anything, but she did not kiss
him good-night as usual. That hurt him
worst of all. He lay awake a long time
thinking about it. Part of the time he was

155

MISS SANTA CLAUS

crying softly, but he had his face snuggled
close down in the pillow so that Libby
could n't hear him.

He wished with all his heart that she
was his own, real mother. He felt that he
needed one. He needed one who could un-
derstand and who had a right to punish him.
It was because she had n't that right that he
resented her authority. All the boys said
she had n't. If she did no more than call
from the window: ''Don't do that, Will'm,"
they 'd say in an undertone, "You don't
have to pay any attention to herT They
seemed to think it was all right for their
mothers to slap them and scold them and
cufF them on the ears. He 'd seen it done.
He would n't care how much he was slapped
and cuffed, if only somebody who was his
truly own did it. Somebody who loved
him. A queer little feeling had been creep-
ing up in his heart for some time. Very
often when She spoke to Libby she called
her "little daughter" and she and Libby
seemed to belong to each other in a way that

156

OF THE PULLMAN

shut Will'm out and gave him a lonesome
left-in-the-cold feehng. Will'm was a rea-
sonable child, and he was just, and up
there in the dark where he could be honest
with himself, he had to acknowledge that
it was his own fault that she had n't kissed
him good-night. It was his fault because,
having started out crooked, he did n't seem
to be able to do anything but to go on
crooked to the end. He couldn't tell her,
but he wished, oh, how he wished, that She
could know how he felt, and know that he
was crying up there in the dark about it.
He wished he could go back to the Junction
and be Grandma Neal's Httle boy. She al-
ways kissed him good-night, even on days
when she had to switch him with a peach-
tree switch. When he was a little bigger
he would just run off and go back to
Grandma Neal.

But next morning he was glad that he was
not living at the Junction, for he started to
kindergarten, and a world of new interests
opened up before him. Benjy came back to

157

MISS SANTA CLAUS

town that week, but he did not find quite
the same tractable follower. Will'm had
learned how to play with other boys, and
how to make other boys do Ms bidding, so he
did not always allow Benjy to dictate. Still
the leaven of an uneasy presence began
working again, and worked on till it was
suddenly counteracted by the coming of an-
other Christmas season.

Both Libby and Will'm began to feel its
approach when it was still a month off.
They felt it in the mysterious thrills that be-
gan to stir the household as sap, rising in a
tree, thrills it with stirrings of spring.
There were secrets and whisperings.
There was counting of pennies and planning
of ways to earn more, for they were wiser
about Christmas this year. They knew that
there are three kinds of presents. There
is the kind that Santa Claus puts into your
stocking, just because he is Santa Claus,
and the Sky Road leads from his Kingdom
of Giving straight to the kingdom of little
hearts who love and believe in him.

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Then there 's the kind that you give to the
people you love, just because you love them,
and you put your name on those. And
third, there 's the kind that you give se-
cretly, in the name of Santa Claus, just to
help him out if he is extra busy and should
happen to send you word that he needs your
services.

Libby and Will'm received no such
messages, being so small, but their father
had one. He sent a load of coal and some
rent money to a man who had lost a month's
wages on account of sickness in his family,
and it must have been a very happy and de-
lightful feeling that Santa Claus gave their
father for doing it, for his voice sounded
that way afterward when he said, "After
all, Molly, that 's the best kind of giving.
We ought to do more of it and less of the
other."

When it came to the first kind of pres-
ents, neither Libby nor Will'm made a
choice. They sent their names and ad-
dresses up the chimney so that the reindeer

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might be guided to the right roof-top, and
left the rest to the generosity of the rein-
deer's wise master to surprise them as he
saw fit. They were almost sure that the
things they daily expressed a wish for would
come by the way of the Christmas tree as
the doll and the tricycle had the year before,
"with the love of father and mother."

But when it came to the second kind of
presents, they had much to consider. They
wanted to give to the family and each other,
and the cook and their teachers, and the chil-
dren they played with most and half a dozen
people at the Junction. The visit which
they had planned all year was to be a cer-
tainty now. The day after Christmas the
entire family was to go for a week's visit, to
Grandma and Uncle Neal.

That last week the children went around
the house in one continual thrill of anticipa-
tion. Such delicious odors of popcorn and
boiling candy, of cake and mincemeat in the
making floated up from the kitchen! Such
rustling of tissue paper and scent of sachets

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as met one on the opening of bureau draw-
ers! And such rapt moments of gift-mak-
ing when Libby sewed with patient, learn-
ing fingers, and Will'm pasted paper
chains and wove paper baskets, as he had
been taught in kindergarten!

One day the conductor's punch suddenly
reappeared, and he seized it with a whoop
of joy. Now all his creations could be
doubly beautiful since they could be star-
bordered. As he punched and punched and
the tiny stars fell in a shower, the story of
Ina and the swans stirred in his memory,
with all the glamour it had worn when he
first heard it over his dish of strawberries.
Down in his secret soul he determined to do
what he wished he had done a year earlier,
to begin to follow the example of Ina.

The family could not fail to notice the
almost angelic behavior which began that
day. They thought it was because of the
watching eye he feared up the chimney, but
no one referred to the change. He used to
sit in front of the fire sometimes, just as he

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had done at the Junction, rocking and sing-
ing, his soft bobbed hair flapping over his
ears every time the rockers tilted forward.
But he was not singing with any thought
that he might be overheard and written
down as a good little boy. He was sing-
ing just because the story of the Camels
and the Star was so very sweet, and the mere
thought of angels and silver bells and the
glittering Sky Road brought a tingling joy.
But more than all he was singing because
he had begun to weave the big beautiful
mantle whose name is Love, and the curi-
ous little left-out-in-the-cold feeling was
gone.

Christmas eve came at last. When the
twilight was just beginning to fall, Libby
brought down the stockings which were to
be hung on each side of the sitting-room
fireplace. It would be nearly an hour be-
fore their father could come home to drive
the nails on which they were to hang, but
they wanted everything ready for him.
WilFm went out to the tool-chest on the

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screened porch to get the hammer. It took
him a long time to find it.

Libby waited impatiently a few moments,
supposing he had stopped to taste something
in the kitchen. She was about to run out
and warn him not to nip the edges from
some tempting bit of pastry, as he had been
known to do, but remembering how very
hard he had been trying to be good all week,
she decided he could be trusted.

With the stockings thrown over one arm
she stood in front of the piano, idly striking
the keys while she waited. She had learned
to play several tunes during the year, and
now that she was eight years old, she was
going to have real lessons after the holidays
and learn to read music. How much she
had learned since the first time her little fin-
gers were guided over the keys. She struck
those earliest-learned notes again: "Three
blind mice ! See how they run !" She could
play the whole thing now, faster than flying.
She ran down the keys, over and over again.

When for about the twentieth time "they

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all took after the farmer's wife," she stopped
short, both hands lifted from the keys to
listen. Her face blanched until even her
lips were pale. Such a sound of awful
battle was coming from the back yard!
Recognizing Will'm's voice she ran out
through the kitchen to the yard.

"It's that everlastin' Benjy, again!"
called the cook as Libby darted out the door
to rescue Will'm from she knew not what.

But it was Benjy who needed rescuing
this time. Will'm sat on top, so mighty in
his wrath and fury that he loomed up fear-
somely to the bigger boy beneath him, whose
body he bestrode and whose face he was bat-
tering with hard and relentless little fists.
Both boys were blubbering and crying, but
Will'm was roaring between blows, "Take
it back! Take it back!"

Whatever it was, Benjy took it back just
as Libby appeared, and being allowed to
stagger up, started for the street, loudly
boo-hooing at every step, as he found his way
homeward, for once of his own volition.

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The cries had startled Libby but they were
as nothing to the sight that met her eyes
when she led WilFm, so blinded by his own
tears that he needed her guidance, to the
light of the kitchen door. What she saw
sent her screaming into the house, with
agonized calls for ''mother." She still held
on to Will'm's hand, pulling him along after
her.

From forehead to chin, one side of his face
was scratched as if a young tiger cat had set
his claws in it. A knot was swelling rapidly
on his upper lip, and one hand was covered
with blood. Mrs. Branfield gave a gasp as
she came running in answer to Libby's
calls. "Why, you poor child!" she cried,
gathering him up to her and sitting down in
the big rocker with him in her lap. "What
happened? A¥hat 's the matter?"

He was sobbing so convulsively now, with
long choking gasps, that he couldn't an-
swer. She saw that his face was only
scratched, but snatched up his hand to ex-
amine the extent of its injuries. As he

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looked at it too, the power of speech came
back to him, in a degree.

"That isn't m-my b-blood!" he sobbed.
"It's B-Benjy's blood!"

"Oh, Will'm!" mourned Libby. "On
Christmas eve, just when you 've been try-
ing so hard to be good, too!"

She picked up the stockings which she had
dropped on running out of the house, and
laid his over the back of a chair, as if she
realized the hopelessness of hanging it up
now, after he had acted so. At that, almost
a spasm of sobs shook him. He did n't need
anybody to remind him of all he had for-,
feited and all he had failed in. That was
what he was crying about. He did n't mind
the smarting of his face or the throbbing of
his swollen lip. He was crying to think that
the struggle of the last week was all for
naught. He was all crooked with Her
again. She did n't want him to fight and
she 'd never understand that this time he just
had to.

The arms that held him were pressing for

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an answer. "Tell me how it happened,
dear."

Between gulps it came.

"Benjy said for me to come on — and go
to the grocery with him ! And I said — that
my — my mother — did n't want me to!"

"Yes," encouragingly, as he choked and
stopped. He had never called her that be-
fore.

"And Benjy said like he always does, that
you w- was n't my m-m-mother anyhow.
And I said you was! If he did n't take it
back I — I'd heat him wpT

Libby was crying too, now, from sympa-
thy. He 'd been told so many times he must
not fight that she was afraid he would have
to be punished for such a bad fight as this.
To be punished on Christmas eve was just
too awful! She stole an anxious o^lance to-
wards the chimney, then toward her mother.

But her mother was hugging him tight
and kissing him wherever she could find a
place on his poor little face that was n't
scratched or swollen, and she was saying in

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a voice that made a lump come into Libby's
throat, it was so loving and tender,

"My dear little boy, if that 's why you
fought him I 'm glad you did it, for you 've
proved now that you are my little son, my
very own!"

Then she laughed, although she had tears
in her eyes herself, and said, "That poor
little cheek shows just what fierce nettles
and briars you 've been through for me, but
you brought it, didn't you! The most
precious star-flower in all the world to
me!"

The surprise of it stopped his tears. She
understood! He could not yet stop the
sobbing. That kept on, doing itself. But
a feeling, warm and tender that he could not
explain, seemed to cover him "from wing-
tip to wing-tip !" A bloody little hand stole
up around her neck and held her tight. She
was his mother, because she understood! It
was all right between them now. It would
always be all right, no matter what Benjy
and the rest of the world might say. He 'd

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beat up anybody that dared to say they
did n't belong to each other, and she wanted
him to do it!

Presently she led him up-stairs to put
some healing lotion on his face, and wash
away the blood of Benjy.

Libby, in the deep calm that followed the
excitement of so many conflicting emotions,
sat down in the big rocking chair to wait for
her father. Her fear for Will'm had been
so strong, her relief at the happy outcome
so great, that she felt all shaken up.
A long, long time she sat there, thinking.
There was only one more thing needed to
make her happiness complete, and that was
to have Miss Santa Claus know that the
charm had worked out true at last. She felt
that they owed her that much — to let her
know. Presently she slipped out of the
chair and knelt in front of the fire so close
that it almost singed her.

"Are you listening up there?" she called
softly. " 'Cause if you are, please tell Miss
Santa Claus that everything turned out just

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as she said it would. I '11 be so much
obliged."

Then she scudded back to her chair to
listen for her father's latchkey in the door,
and her mother's and WilFm's voices coming
down the stairs, a happier sound than even
the sound of the silver bells, that by and by
would come jingling down the Sky Road.

THE END

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